Vigne
by Lapis Love
Summary: Updated Chapter 11- Bamon- the continuation of the Hard Limits/Subtext drabbles. "They were standing impossibly close together, breathing in rhythm seemingly unaware. Damon's head was tilted downward while the rest of his body remained poised in one erect line whereas Bonnie's head was tilted nearly all the way back, shoulders straight." What are they fighting about now?
1. Stefonnie-Running Lines

**A/N: Hi, I'm sure you're raging, why is she starting yet another story when she has so many unfinished ones. Let me explain. I have a lot of stories in my head that can be multi-chapter fics, but I sort of lack the motivation to carry them out from start to finish. So I've decided to just write a series of one-shots featuring all my favorite Bonnie pairings as they come to me. Some may follow canon, others will be AU, some AU/AH, and I might even do some crossovers. I'll let you know beforehand. **

**The first one is Stefonnie and its **_**way**_** AU/AH. I had written it for Stefonnie Appreciation Week but didn't like it. So I'm brushing it off and putting it out there. This might be the only one-shot I'm breaking up into two parts because I do have more written but these are just the first 9 pages. I need to finish the conclusion. **

**To give a brief summary: Bonnie and Stefan are actors on a show called The Doppelganger Diaries, and they're running lines...and running lines. Just read to see what happens. No kink. Not yet. **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

He had to read it again. And the second time he did made no more sense than the first time his eyes scanned the words. Perhaps if he squinted that might improve the writing on the page, or maybe if he held the script further away, or perchance he could translate it into another language? No. It was no use. It was official now. He was on the crappiest show in the history of American television! This being only the third season out of six he was condemned to this hell for another three years.

Slapping the script on his crossed legs, Stefan Salvatore ran a hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. Using the breathing exercises his expensive ass therapist taught him, he inhaled deeply through his nostrils before pushing the air between his lips, lips that were seconds away from curling in a grimace before revealing his naturally long incisor teeth. He had been teased about his "fangs" back in elementary and junior high school. Had been the butt of countless Count Dracula jokes, and people wondering if Nosfertau was a distant relative. As soon as he entered high school, though, his luck with the ladies changed and there was never any shortage of women who found his canines, hot. Plenty of girls, especially around Halloween literally wanted him to take a bite and eat them. Stefan being a slave to obligation felt it had been his civic duty to carry out such orders.

But alas, high school was over, college was a wrap, and he was an actor now struggling in the sense to make the most out of an unforeseen situation. Stefan would never look at his blessing like a curse though it was slowly turning into one. Being on a show that catered to one of the most popular genres and lore that had been revived in the last couple of years meant he'd have to deal with the endless comparisons to sugary sweet, family friendly movies that humanized the undead and made mortality seem like a death sentence rather than a gift. Cursed was he to play the anti-hero in love with a special snowflake danger magnet competing with his brother for her affection and the ownership of her panties.

He sighed again and thought not for the first time if he should have declined this role and gone with the other where he could have portrayed a rookie cop toeing the line of enforcing the law or cheating the system.

The other show had since been canceled due to poor ratings. So Stefan used that as motivation every single morning he dragged himself out of bed in his rented high rise apartment in the suburbs of Virginia where his show based off a 5-part book series aptly titled _The Doppelganger Diaries _was being filmed. He was twenty-eight fucking years old playing Jason Stark, a nineteen year old clone of his super genius great-grandfather whom his character just discovered was a doppelganger that was in love with his girlfriend's doppelganger; so in some weird way he and his girlfriend may be related. Complete and total bullshit, Stefan thought.

Yes, he could bemoan the terrible plot and the melodrama of the show but it afforded him a comfortable lifestyle, stylish perks in the form of an overflowing bank account, free admission into concerts and the hottest nightclubs around the globe, dates with some of the most beautiful women in the entertainment business, and having his entire wardrobe provided by the fashion designer he was now the face of.

Stefan wasn't exactly immune to the rush he got at attending conventions and seeing fans wearing shirts with his face, screaming his name and vying for his attention. Hands reaching out to make some kind of contact with him, girls in hysterics willing to sell their mothers for just five minutes of his time. That small bit made the job bearable yet at the end of the day Stefan wanted what every actor wanted. Critical acclaim and to be seen as a serious actor in the eyes of his peers. Stefan was apt enough to realize that would never happen so long as he remained on a show that lacked originality and merely borrowed the story lines of other cult shows without even attempting to add a more creative spin to what had been done before.

His job was simple: act. That's all he was being paid for, unfortunately. Not to think. Not to worry about fan reaction to upcoming story lines that he _knew _they were going to despise. Stefan was to say his lines with as much or as little emotion as the scene called for, say "thank you" and "please" and to clear the set as soon as he wrapped.

Rising from his chair located in his trailer, Stefan placed the script on the make up counter and then looked at his reflection.

Many had described him as having Roman-Greco features and he did posses those: deep set leaf green eyes that sometimes appeared gray in direct sunlight under thick dark brown eyebrows, aquiline nose, proud jaw line which was probably his best feature, under a crown of bronze and auburn hair. Sure enough it was his near perfect symmetrical face that landed him the role. That and his six-pack he was basically asked to show before he even uttered a single line in the monologue he had studied and memorized.

Stefan remembered feeling the breakfast he consumed that morning was about to make a flamboyant appearance as soon as he walked into the room filled with executive producers and writers. But he tramped down his mounting anxiety and got through the audition without humiliating himself. Leaving with sweaty palms, the next forty-eight hours of his life had been exhausting and ulcer inducing as he waited to hear from his agent if he had gotten the part or not. For months he had been slumming on his best friend Lexi Branson's couch and he could hear the exasperation in her voice every time she returned home from work to see he hadn't moved from the position she had left him in eight hours before.

ATM's laughed whenever he strolled by one, and his father didn't offer any help or support with his finances. Stefan was a literal starving artist so this job couldn't have come at a more desperate time in his life.

Once he received the call, signed his contract, Stefan should have known that he had also sold a small piece of his soul away. He couldn't recognize it before because the euphoria of being selected to play such a beloved character in the young adult supernatural genre blinded him, but he had set himself up to talk about this disgrace of a show for the next ten plus years of his life. Prayerfully when it was all said and done he'd have some street cred left.

There was a knock on his trailer door breaking him from his thoughts. Clearing his throat and running his tongue over his bottom lip, Stefan bellowed:

"Come in."

The door opened and his entire face instantly lit up as his eyes took in the elfin female who walked up the short flight of steps into his trailer closing the door behind her entry. Vanilla assaulted his nostrils and Stefan took in as much of her clean scent as possible. She was already dressed in her wardrobe for the scene they were about to shoot, and Stefan noticed she held her script, Samsung Galaxy, and an herbal tea bottle in her hands. She came to rehearse and run lines.

"Hey, you busy?" she asked in a cheery voice with a beguiling smile.

Stefan shook his head and then motioned toward the leather couch that was propped up against a wall. "No, unfortunately I'm the opposite of busy. I'm guessing you're here not to gossip but to deal with the latest script change?"

Viridian eyes rolled and dainty shoulders shrugged. "This show never lacks surprises, I'll give it that much. What do you think about the latest development? It's the best, amirite?" the sarcasm was heavy in the air.

Stefan snorted, picked up his script and then he and his co-star had a seat on the leather couch, facing one another.

He didn't pay any mind to the fact his heart was beginning to race just a little behind his sternum at the sight of Bonnie Bennett probably the hottest and one of the sweetest actresses he ever had the fortune of working with. Growing up Stefan prided himself on having a type: olive-skinned, tall, with dark eyes. Bonnie didn't meet that exact mold but she was beautiful with sienna brown skin, a heart shaped face with bright and curious malachite eyes, and a crooked mouth in the shape of Cupid's bow. A mouth he went to bed every single night dreaming about the day he would finally get to taste with his own.

He cleared his throat and shifted against the couch when he noticed that his dark jeans were getting a little tight and uncomfortable around the crotch area. It didn't help matters that Bonnie was dressed in an itty bitty skirt that left those toned legs of her exposed, manicured toes painted a metallic green winking at him in a pair of strappy sandals. Thankfully the camisole top she was wearing came with a knit cardigan offering a modicum of modesty.

Bonnie was one of the first people Stefan instantly connected with. She too had been another starving actress and had done some bit parts in B movies that went straight to DVD release. But where he had to rely on the charity of his close friend, Bonnie had her mother and father that supported her and her dream though she often complained they weren't as tight knit as her folks would like to appear. They thought she was wasting her time with acting, never thought she'd make a lucrative enough living to survive for more than a couple of months at a time. So landing the role of psychic Cataleya Reinfeld had been a big middle finger to her disbelieving parentals.

Though their characters were close in the books it was not translating on film. In fact Jason was a downright asshole toward Cataleya which sometimes made going into work painful for Stefan because, and he tried to fight it as best he could, but unable to help or stop himself at this point, he was falling in love with Bonnie.

He couldn't even pinpoint when it started to happen, when things started to unravel. He just remembered walking into the room for their first read through and their eyes locking. Bonnie had been one the first cast members to arrive that day and he remembered every small detail about her, down to the jewelry she had worn. Within minutes a kinship and intimacy had been born between them as they found out they shared similar backgrounds and experiences, though there was plenty of things they didn't have in common. If he had to name someone as his best friend on set, Bonnie was in the top spot.

Stefan tried as best he could to keep his feelings under wraps. Especially when it became obvious that Bonnie and their other co-star Kol Mikaelson were getting closer. The day he found out about their relationship was the morning he was eating Fruity Pebbles and was perusing one of Lexi's tabloid magazines and came across a puff piece on Bonnie being seen leaving a restaurant with Kol in tow. That wouldn't have been cause for his blood pressure to skyrocket the way it did until he saw the other photos of them one) holding hands and then two) sharing a quick kiss before the paparazzi decided to stop following them. The show had yet to take off then and since they played supporting characters they weren't important enough to stalk—yet.

With prickly clarity Stefan remembered going into work the following day and the rest of that week feeling sick to the stomach. Bonnie with her mother hen-ish ways tried to get him to talk, and open up about what was going on with him since he had taken to snapping at any and everyone who so much as dared to breathe the same air as him. Stefan had shut her down and shut her out. He needed time to figure out why he wanted to strangle Kol every time he saw him.

To his utter joy, months later, Bonnie and Kol amicably ended their relationship. Down side, Bonnie confessed to him she had no interest in dating anyone else for a while, and viewed the rest of the guys on set as her brothers. Stefan felt that fate was worse than being friendzoned.

When he looked at her, brotherly thoughts were the last thing traipsing through his mind. She was poetry in motion, enticing to the senses and what made everything equally frustrating and astounding was the fact Bonnie was completely ignorant of the pull she had over the male species. Bonnie was quiet and determined but when she spoke people listened, and when she laughed it made you smile. But lately she had been going through the ringer as her father was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer, and Stefan did everything in his power to be there for her.

So it was both heaven and hell sitting this close to Bonnie and knowing he had to keep his hands to himself. She viewed him as a brother and he knew if he wanted anything more with Bonnie, he'd have to bide his time and wait for her to make the first move. He just didn't have confidence enough that time would ever come.

Interrupting his own reverie, Stefan flipped through the pages of the script until he arrived at their scene. They had five pages of dialogue to cover and most of it was Jason being a stereotypical, entitled and privileged dick—his alter ego since his brain had been tampered with by his great-grandfather's rival Maximilian von Rasputin, which was a ridiculous name in Stefan's opinion but played by Kol's older, real life brother Klaus Mikaelson. This was also a show that had no such qualms about hiring family members. Stefan's own brother Damon sometimes had a guest spot on the show playing an alcoholic, womanizing ghost hunter who could never seem to stay out of trouble.

Finding his spot in the script, Stefan pressed his lips together and then had a thought. He turned to face Bonnie who had been busy texting while he mentally prepared himself. Boldly, Stefan reached over and plucked her electronic gateway out of her hands and stuffed it between the cushions of the couch.

"Seriously, Stefan," Bonnie deadpanned crooking her finger. "Give me back my phone."

"You'll get it back when we're done. We need to get in character, Bonnie and that phone was keeping you preoccupied." Pause. "I want to try something."

Sighing heavily, Bonnie said, "What?"

"We pretty much know how to play off one another and this scene between Jason and Cataleya is no different than the hundred other scenes we've filmed. Your character is being unnecessarily, but rightfully judgmental and Jason is tired of hearing her mouth so he's inexcusably rude to her. Cataleya tries to get through to him, and Jason rewards her efforts by threatening her life. End Scene. I want to skip to the end where Jason and Demi are having their moment."

Bonnie gulped. She knew which scene Stefan was talking about since she read it this morning, and felt it was the only decent part of the script. Demi was Jason's girlfriend though the couple was going through a rough patch at the moment. But in the scene Jason finally sees through the lies that had been implanted in his head that Demi never betrayed him with his brother. At least not yet, but everyone knew it was coming since Demi and Jason's brother Owen were getting far too close for comfort.

Uncertainly reign supreme on Bonnie's face from what Stefan could tell. "Shouldn't you rehearse that with Elena?" she questioned and nibbled a corner of her lip.

Stefan knew that's what he should be doing since Elena Gilbert played the girl his character loved. But again, they had an established chemistry where it would take next to nothing to convey the tone of the scene and execute it flawlessly.

He slid a little closer to Bonnie who thankfully didn't shift on the couch to place more space between them. Stefan could see her pupils dilate and he wondered what she might be thinking; that maybe he was trying to reenact the horror stories of the casting couch where directors sometimes overstepped boundaries and made moves on gullible actors and actresses that were willing to do whatever to took to make it in Hollywood.

That thought made him cease all movement and add a smile to his face to erase any mounting suspicion Bonnie might be having.

They were close and knew a great deal about one another; however, they didn't know _everything _about each other and Stefan had to constantly remind himself not to give too much away. If he couldn't be anything more than friends with Bonnie he knew he'd have to teach himself to accept it. But there were some days where she gave off mixed signals or the impression that she might be tempted to the dark side. It was never anything explicit or overt, but just that she'd sometimes linger by his side while they waited for the crew to set up the next shot, constantly coming to him for advice, or insisting they sit next to each other at craft services—her thigh sometimes touching his, or she'd deliver that shy half smile when nothing was being said between them.

In the grand scheme of things, Stefan knew those actions mounted to nothing more than friendship to Bonnie. Nevertheless, a man could dream.

"I could rehearse that with Elena but she's being dolled up to play her doppelganger Katherine. I just wanted to attack the scene from another angle," Stefan said. "Please?" he tacked on making sure to deliver his best heart melting puppy dog eyes.

The second he saw Bonnie's shoulders slump he knew he had gotten his way. Bonnie very rarely told him no.

"All right," she said trying her best to sound put off. "We'll run through the scene but only once and then we need to go over _our _lines. Agreed?"

Stefan tossed his head back like a servant at an imperial court. "You know I'm at your service, ma'am," he rose from the couch and then offered his hand toward Bonnie. The minute their skin connected that uncanny rush and spark careened through him to which he expertly ignored, and pulled Bonnie to her feet.

Each of them began to pace, eyes flying over the lines, and when they were ready they faced each other.

Bonnie opened up the dialogue. "I knew I'd find you here."

Stefan presented his most brooding face, "I want to be alone."

"Typically when people say that they mean the opposite. Jason…I don't want to keep pushing you, but…"

"Why are you here, Demi?" he cut her off. "Why is it so hard for you to get it through your _thick skull_ that whatever you and I had I don't remember and I don't want to remember because if what Celeste said is true, my past is filled with nothing but pain…" Stefan stopped. "This is what I'm having trouble with."

Bonnie blinked, officially out of the moment. "Having trouble with what?"

Stefan braced his hands on his hips and cleared the space between him and Bonnie. He reached up and cupped her cheek, trailed his thumb along her jaw line, and stared unblinkingly into her eyes. A divot formed between her brows but then melted and reappeared within seconds.

"Why Jason is so quick to believe everything Celeste tells him but not the woman he loves? Though he can't remember everything, feelings leave impressions and he has to _feel_ something when he's alone with Demi, but it's like she's acid to him. Things were good between Jason and Demi and in my opinion I feel the writers are trying to beef up the angst in the wrong way."

"So," Bonnie coughed to remove the dry lump in her throat. "What would you do to change it?"

Tilting his head a little to the side, Stefan looked away for a moment but hadn't removed his hand from Bonnie's face. After a considerable pause he refocused his attention on her once more. The color of his eyes deepening to emerald.

"I'd look at the woman I love and I'd tell her, 'There's something about you that I just can't shake even if everything in me and around me is telling me we don't belong together. But I feel it here," he picked up Bonnie's hand and placed it directly over his heart, and lowered his voice. "Something is in there that won't budge and I don't think it ever will, and if I'm being honest, I don't want it to. It makes me feel alive, attached to the earth, weightless. And I know you feel it, too. I want to find out what it is. Will you help me…Bon…Demi?"

Bonnie stared at Stefan stupidly. Being a method actor she knew he was merely improvising, but something about this felt like more than just taking liberties with his own character.

She attempted to say something, _anything _but it was like her brain at that moment decided to take a hike. Unexpectedly, Bonnie's skin began to tingle and she literally could hear her heart beating. She never had this kind of reaction toward Stefan before, not even while they filmed a scene and he was half naked for a majority of it. Though it was oftentimes difficult getting there mentally in a room full of people, now they were alone and she was on the receiving end of something she couldn't name or put a finger on, but it was powerful and pleasantly shocking. Her cheeks burned and she was tempted to rupture the spell by looking away from the net cast within Stefan's gaze, but she was immobilized.

Knowing that she should just go with the flow, Bonnie nodded as she imagined Demi Lambert—the girl in love with brothers—would.

"That's all I've ever wanted to do, Jace was help you."

"I know the best place to start."

"Where?"

"Here," Stefan lowered his head while tilting Bonnie's chin up and slanting his mouth over hers.

The first contact was like seeing a shooting star or a meteor shower—a one of the kind event that you'd remember well into your golden years. She tasted sweet like the lemon flavored tea she had been drinking, and her lips were decadently pliant and supple as they molded against his. Stefan wanted to take his time though the base part of himself wanted to ravish her. The kiss, like the words he just spoke was spur of the moment, unscripted much like his personal life, and with what control he possessed he tasted Bonnie's mouth as if he had just bitten into a juicy, ripe melon.

Bonnie had no idea what to do with her hands and was vaguely aware that they had balled Stefan's flannel shirt into a fist. Being that he was significantly taller than her, she stood on her toes to deepen the kiss that was slowly sparking her arousal, cooking up her insides. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bonnie should have yelled "cut" after the immediate press of his lips on hers, but she went with it and now she was drowning. Rescue came in the form of an artful tongue that gently prodded the opening of her mouth to which Bonnie eagerly welcomed inside. Inadvertently she groaned as her tongue teasingly slid over Stefan's and what started off innocent was quickly delving into the explicit. Releasing his shirt, Bonnie's hands slid up the muscular expanse of Stefan's chest, circled his neck, before burrowing into the blunt hairs at the nape.

Why was she still kissing him? Bonnie didn't know. She only knew it had been eight months since her last kiss that didn't happen on camera, and she missed feeling the warm, hard press of a male body against her much softer and curvier one. Plus, at the end of the day she trusted Stefan.

Things turned aggressive the second teeth sank into her upper lip before a swipe of a cool tongue extinguished the painful pinch. Stefan's hands which had been holding her around the waist slid up her she sides before journeying back down her spine, slowly, unhurriedly, and contoured to the moons of her well-endowed backside.

A rush went through Bonnie as she clutched Stefan tighter, lungs burning and in desperate need of air, but for whatever reason she couldn't end the kiss though reasons began to ping pong around in her head that they were friends, professional colleagues, and shouldn't be kissing like they were seconds away from having some of the most explosive and awesome sex of their lives.

Where was this side to her coming from to begin with? Bonnie idly wondered but the thought was canceled out before she could find a sufficient answer. Her feet were no longer on the ground; she was being lifted below the knees and hoisted up.

For just a second her lips disconnected with Stefan's and they stared at one another with half-lidded orbs, noses touching. Their heavy breathing matched, contractions took place deep within her womb, and it hadn't escaped Bonnie that something like steel had been pressed against her stomach only seconds ago.

Stefan was hard for _her_ and…yep she was definitely wet for him. So fast? Normally it took more than kissing for her juices to get going but that's all it took with Stefan?

Holy _fuck _he was harder than bricks encased in concrete. The couch was less than two feet away and all he'd need was a head nod of consent for him to lower Bonnie to the sofa, peel her out of her clothes, slide into her warmth and…

"Stefan, I…we…I should go."

_No!_ His mind raged, but forlornly nodded his head and placed Bonnie on her feet. She didn't waste a second putting the entire trailer between them, avoided his eyes and digging her phone out of the couch with shaky hands.

He opened his mouth to apologize but Stefan wasn't sorry he kissed her. He did slightly panic wondering if Bonnie thought he took advantage of her, and maybe deep down he did. For _years _Stefan wanted to do nothing more than to have the freedom to kiss Bonnie when the mood struck, but he never crossed any boundaries. He wouldn't and didn't dare. He had too much respect for her and now he wondered if he had blown Bonnie's respect for him to smithereens.

"Bonnie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to go that far."

With her back still to him, Bonnie stiffened. Too many emotions were running a train on her at the moment and all she could really focus on was escaping. When they first met she might have been curious if Stefan was a good kisser as she often found Elena blushing for hours after one of her heavy make out sessions on film. But he had solidified himself as one of her best friends and a surrogate brother. Being anything more was forbidden.

Briefly Bonnie looked at Stefan and saw that he had paled some. Though his face looked apologetic the noticeable tent in his jeans looked defiant. Flushing to her roots when she caught herself staring unabashed at his erection, Bonnie stared at a point over his shoulder.

"I'll see you on set," Bonnie tossed out hastily, gathered the rest of her things and scampered to freedom.

Alone, Stefan ran his fingers though his hair and cursed.

TBC

**A/N: Okay, if I can finish the rest of this I may post it directly following this or wait a few other one shots before doing so. I've always wanted to write a story that pokes at the show and the actors, so if this came off as more Paulerina than Stefonnie, couldn't really be avoided. Nevertheless, thank you dolls for reading. Let me know what you think. Until next time, love you.**


	2. Bamon-Covet

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my first Stefonnie drabble. Now it's Bamon's turn.**

**Pairing: S4 Bamon (slightly canon)**

**Summary: Ever wondered what it would be like if Bonnie caught feelings for Damon first and how she would handle those feelings in that they would probably war with her established head canon about the kind of person he is? Well, I've kind of taken a few plot points from S4 and infused them with Bonnie's thoughts told in first person. I don't touch on anything specific from the show like Silas, or the cure. But, I do mention the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, and Bonnie/Shane/Damon/Elena/Jeremy at the lake house trying to prevent Jeremy from annihilating Elena upon sight, and events that happened afterwards. So enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

I just didn't understand it. How she could go from passionately loving Stefan to loving Damon. It made no sense to me because I had watched the situation long enough to know what was going on. Had visual proof that the sun rose and fell with Stefan Salvatore according to Elena Gilbert, and with Damon—he had been the dark side of the moon. I won't be stupid and say I didn't see the appeal _before _certain facts came into the light. But this entire situation caught me the fuck off guard, and well, I was just trying to process it.

I wanted to be a good friend and sometimes being a good friend was knowing when to speak up, say something and when to shut up. Enough people had tried to tell Elena what to do with her life, (even I was guilty of that), and she was at an age just like the rest of us to know precisely what she wanted. But instead, she chose to hide behind the cloak of indecision and dangle along two brothers who couldn't function together properly from one crisis to the next.

My head wasn't shoved so far up magic's ass that I didn't know what was going on in my friends' lives. Well, let me be honest. I only knew what I did because of Caroline. She was typically the one to keep me in the loop. Even if what she had to share with me was nothing more than idle gossip. In hindsight I tolerated those days—just barely. Now I could be grateful to Caroline for having enough care to include me on things I never would have heard about otherwise. However, things still did manage to fall between the cracks. I had been forgotten about, reduced to an afterthought; and after a time the solitude was needed because death was turning out to be the only real constant I had.

I didn't tell anyone about the pains in my stomach that developed after Grams died, and grew progressively worse the more magic I used. The more I over extended myself. Nosebleeds and losing consciousness was only half the fun. Battling insomnia, having poor concentration, even losing my hair, the amount of worrying I had done had begun to take its toll on me. Yet I kept quiet. Because…who would care? I mean, I know my friends weren't heartless to at least not say, "Oh, Bonnie why didn't you tell us what was going on? We could have helped you."

Helped me with what? would have been my typical reply. My friends couldn't do what I could. They had big hearts and egos that could easily be crushed; bones that could be shattered, blood that could and had been spilled. However, I knew I was the most powerful. Unfortunately, power died a premature death if it's not nurtured or followed up with anything remotely resembling substance.

And that's what I lacked. Substance. My life was void without it.

I thought falling in love would add substance. I thought laying down my life so that my best friend could live, would add substance. I thought standing up to those who scared me without letting them know I was scared created substance. And maybe those things did. I don't really know. I'm only eighteen and the highlight of my life has been…faking my death, watching my grandmother die, and being treated like a punching bag by the spirits and the two guys my best friend had fallen in love with.

I didn't need to question what it was about Elena that made people go above and beyond for her. I've been her friend for close to two decades. I knew. Could write the book about the kind of person she represented. At the end of the day it was nothing more than an ideal. She was the ideal. The mold. The prototype. The rest of us—according to the men of Mystic Falls, were nothing but copies and not very good ones at that.

It stung. I never paid it much attention in the past because guys in general had always registered a two on my importance meter. Yet it always seemed to flutter in the back of my mind.

When we were cheerleaders most of the guys in the stadium would be fixated on her. I'd smile the whole thing off, point out a particular person during one of our breaks. Elena would make a weird face, I'd laugh, and fall right back into cheer mode. Once we hit the after party, boys would come up to us to ask us to dance. We'd accept and the guy I'd dance with would ask me one question about myself while spending the rest of the time throwing furtive looks at Elena.

Physically I didn't think anything was wrong with me. I just kind of figured this being the south, Mystic Falls where the population wasn't all that diverse, I just wasn't anyone's type. Elena never took any of the devotion too seriously because she normally had her eye on one guy. She'd date him for a while before settling in a relationship. She never spread herself too thin, but she invariably kept her options open until she was ready to commit.

Caroline didn't really have that kind of patience. And I wouldn't say she lacked self-esteem or perhaps she did, but hid it under being the perfect social butterfly. She'd rather die than be caught dead leaving the house without a stitch of makeup on, or the right outfit and accessories. Caroline was the ultimate girly girl and with her being a vampire, she still was but didn't mind getting her hands dirty.

And they constantly were.

Now she had garnered the affection of a thousand year old hybrid. A hybrid I thought had a certain reverence for witches, but I digress.

If there was something I could say I envied my friends for, it would be the amount of people in their lives who cared for them. My list was very short compared to theirs. No, I didn't want homicidal man-children falling in love with me. But I did want love. I did want to be loved for who I was, but unfortunately not many had any clue on who Bonnie Bennett _is_.

I'm a girl. I'm a witch. I'm a daughter. I'm a legacy. I have a heart, a soul, and a sound mind. I'm loyal to a fault, make mistakes, but I persevere because that's what survivors do. I hate being alone, but I close myself off. I'm afraid I'll die before my time and I'll be alone when it happens, and then forgotten within a year completely. Maybe shorter. Maybe longer. I try too hard to please. I don't give myself enough credit, and I demand too little from those around me. I don't know what I want for my future, I can barely see it.

But it would nice if I could be happy. Happiness was a choice. A choice made or broken by prior experiences, and in my prior experiences…there hadn't been much to inspire that emotion. Yet for my own solidarity I would try.

* * *

The choice began at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. At first, I had no intentions of going. However, Professor Atticus Shane, my mentor of sorts, called me and said he was in town acting as a judge and wanted to see me in person. I had shut myself up in the house to go over spells using Expression, another form of magic that didn't need the okay from the spirits in order for it to work. The last thing I wanted to do was leave my experimenting, put on the dress Caroline had picked out, stand around and smile at a bunch of people I didn't know or like.

But for Shane I had a change of heart because it would be nice to speak with him about the slight progress I had made. So I slipped into the flesh tone jersey dress, my BCBG pumps, threw some makeup on, tossed my hair into a ponytail, and was out the door in under an hour driving to Klaus' mansion.

When I arrived Caroline was giving her opening speech. I didn't want to distract her by crossing the lawn to stand with the other spectators. So I stood off to the side, kind of obstructed by some bushes.

As my eyes passed over the crowd I first spotted Elena. She appeared to be having a difficult time breathing, and I thought she might be repelling the urge to attack someone. I had every intention of going over there and pulling her aside in the event she was having a severe blood craving, but then I saw the reason for her labored breathing.

Damon.

He was staring at her brazenly just as she was doing to him. I looked between them for a while trying to come up with any reason other than the obvious in why they appeared to be resisting ripping the other's clothes to shreds. I had bared witness to Damon giving Elena nothing short of thirsty looks, and she ignored them as diplomatically as possible. Even if her cheeks turned a little pink in her effort. Furthermore, she never explicitly returned his look with one fervent enough to cauterize skin.

Just the day before Caroline informed me that Stefan had ended things for good with Elena. She didn't go into any more detail other than to say Elena was putting too much stock into everything Damon told her. In terms of being a vampire.

It wasn't just that, I knew. Stefan and Damon rarely agreed on anything when it came to Elena. Stefan wouldn't leave her just because he and Damon weren't seeing eye-to-eye. No. Stefan knew what I was seeing. Elena wanted to fuck his brother. Plain and simple. If she wanted to call it love after all the shit Damon not only put her through but all of us through…I wondered if at some point my friend suffered brain damage, and we had been too busy to notice the signs before she transitioned.

Nevertheless, watching them I felt I was intruding on something, and for one wild moment I wanted to give them both aneurysms to knock it off. But of course that made me remember my little magic aliment, and that I wasn't where I used to be.

I was powerless in so many ways. Couldn't protect myself, couldn't stop fate, couldn't yell at my friend not to be the girl who trades one brother for another. It was Elena's life. She was going to do what she wanted. That's just how things were.

But in that moment I felt something I didn't think I'd ever feel when it came to those two: jealously. That surprised me more than anything. There was no reason for me to be jealous because I _knew _I didn't want anything, not even a hello from one Damon Salvatore. And sure Elena was beautiful but I was strictly dick. Maybe my jealousy was born of the knowledge that once again my level of importance to one of the most important people in my life was being diminished. That made me feel dumb and childish. Whatever the reason, I didn't stick around. I didn't speak to Shane or to anyone. I left because at the end I knew I didn't belong here.

When I saw Elena at school the following day, she was glowing and beaming and she didn't even need to say the reason for her all-around change in attitude. She practically had: I spent all night _and _this morning fucking Damon. I hid my unease behind a smile and quickly agreed to her girl's night in. It had been an appallingly long time since the three of us got together to have fun and remember how we used to be before vampires, werewolves, and yes witches entered into our lives.

That night, we danced around, got drunk—well I did, off some really good champagne and ended up in Damon's bathroom of all places. Elena confessed she did sleep with Damon. Caroline hit the fucking roof. I kept my mouth glued shut and watched those two go back and forth. Elena ended the conversation by basically calling Caroline a slut since she wasted zero time before jumping into bed with Damon.

I had been appalled at Elena's deduction and then the next thing I knew, Caroline and I were being thrown out because we weren't rejoicing with Elena and her newfound sexual freedom with her ex-boyfriend's brother, and her best friend's ex-abuser. And to put the icing on the cake, she claimed to be falling in love with Damon.

What a busy three days Elena had.

Needless to say things were weird and I blocked everything out by spending my free time with Shane. Learning spells, learning about different cultures of people in far off places I'd love to see one day.

"There are things inside of you, Bonnie. Locked away. Powerful things. I just want to help you tap into your real potential," Shane repeated a phrase he had said to me often over Thai one night.

We had moved things from his office to his apartment. It was a bit jarring to be in a more intimate setting with a man who was maybe ten years younger than my dad. But I needed the change in scenery. I needed to be away from Mystic Falls, and the emotions certain people in it churned up.

"Bonnie? You okay?"

I snapped out of it and offered a smile. "I'm fine."

Shane pursed his lips. "I'm not your friends so you don't have to keep up pretenses with me. If something is bothering you, you know you can talk to me. Whatever you need to get off your chest…you know I won't pass judgment."

How do you tell a man you've only known a handful of weeks that your best friend was ruining her life by loving the wrong man? A vampire that she's unfortunately sired to, and her feelings may not be her own? However it's difficult to tell since she had never been truly honest about her feelings for said "master"? And how could I explain my own personal feelings on the matter without looking like a hypocrite in the process?

I wanted to tell Shane the truth, get his perspective, but I wasn't ready.

"I want to talk…unload…I just can't. Not yet."

"Because of what it'll mean once you do?" he guessed correctly.

We finished our dinner. He gave me yet another book to read, and I made my way back to Mystic Falls. Instead of driving straight to my empty house, I went to the Grill. It had been a while since I saw or spoke to Matt, and I wanted to see him.

The place was crowded so I opted to sit outside. There were couples everywhere. Eating, strolling, being completely and totally engulfed in one another. I couldn't handle the scene and got up to leave, and when I did Damon had stepped out of his car. I waited to see if he was alone and surprisingly he was.

This was my first time seeing him since the pageant. He wasn't wearing the expression of a man who finally got everything he wanted in life. In fact, he was brooding. I had every intention of floating away unseen because I didn't want to face him mainly due to the fact I had nothing nice to say to him. We weren't the type to ask about each other, inquire about the weather. He orbited in his circle. I stayed in mine until our paths had no other option but to intersect.

That hadn't happened lately and he was beginning to seem like a figment of my imagination, but his frequency in my thoughts bothered me.

"Judgey…we have a problem."

Crap.

I turned to face Damon. He stood far closer to me than I expected and I took a step back. "What is it now?"

"Your ex seems hellbent on killing his sister every time he looks at her."

"And how is that my problem?"

Damon opened up his mouth ready to make another quip, but then his jaws snapped shut and he blinked at me. That hadn't been the response he obviously anticipated. His brows knitted together.

"You're not the least bit worried about Jeremy killing your best friend, or Elena killing her brother in self-defense? I know you can be cold but damn I didn't know you were ice cold."

That almost sounded like a compliment. "No, I just find it amazing you only speak to me when there's a problem when I'd much prefer for you not to speak to me at all. What makes you think I can stop Jeremy from killing Elena anymore than you can? He's a hunter now. It's in his genes. No, I don't want him to kill his sister, but again magic was not invented to solve every single problem. Find someone else."

"Like that shady ass professor you've been spending all your free time with?"

I folded my arms over my chest. I didn't want to drag Shane into this and it was nice to have something of my own I didn't have to share with everyone else. Well, apparently that wasn't going to last very long even if I told Damon to rot in hell and leave Shane alone.

"Is someone feeling a little neglected, Bonnie? Still hurt you weren't clued in about certain things because of your lack of magical talent? We do have lives outside of worrying if the witch will be functional or dysfunctional today. Get over it."

Something happened and I shut down. I pulled the gloves off. "Do you remember when Rebekah kidnapped you, tortured you, repeatedly stabbed and sliced into your skin because you pissed her off?" Damon swallowed and didn't comment. "Remember how helpless you felt being at her and Klaus' mercy, and you said my name in that small voice, practically begging me with your eyes to free you knowing I had the power to do it? And what did I do? I left. Only, I called Elena and told her where you were." Again he said nothing. "That wasn't the only time I saved your ungrateful life. If I hadn't placed Klaus in Tyler's body your ass would be toast, and if I hadn't lowered the flames in that warehouse, your ass would be roast. So…the next time you want to act superior to me remember, Damon…I _am _your god."

The murmur of voices around us provided background noise as Damon and I stared at each other. From the look on his face he was struggling with coming up with a cutting response that would remind me of my inferiority and age. He did bob his head and stared at his boots. It felt amazing to render his ass speechless. I took another step back, he remained where he was.

"Soooo long story short…you're not helping?"

I let out an irritated sound in the back of my throat and officially walked away. Elena had my number. Jeremy had my number. If they truly wanted help with this problem they'd call me and not send their—well more so Elena's errand boy to do her work for her. But it felt good releasing that off my chest. Deep seated feelings I had harbored for too long with no place to go but to take everything good about me and warp it into something bad.

Needless to say, I did eventually show my face at the Gilbert lake house where Jeremy had been staying to tramp down his homicidal urge to kill his sister.

He and I kept our conversations short and to the point as he spent most of his time outside chopping wood. I called Shane to ask if any of his methods of hypnosis might help Jeremy, and he said he had a few ideas in mind he'd like to try out. He was on the way as well as Damon and Elena.

I made tea with those special herbs Shane had prescribed because I needed something to do. Something to keep my mind off things I was trying very hard not to think about. Truth be told, I didn't want to be here, but I didn't want to examine the reason why too closely.

The major holidays were around the corner. My father was home a lot more now and I tried my best not to worry about his safety since parents—fathers in particular didn't have a long shelf life in Mystic Falls. If I had known Tyler's father had been in the warehouse too that night, I would have told Stefan to save him. I couldn't look at Tyler for a while after it happened knowing how minutes could change or damn a life forever.

I may have pointed fingers at the killers around me for killing, but I had blood on my hands, too. I left Mason Lockwood alone with Damon knowing or at least suspecting he wouldn't let the man walk free after getting info on Katherine and her diabolical plan. All I cared about was where I stood with my friends and being strong enough to fight. There was Luca and Jonas to consider. I didn't feel as bad about Jonas since he hijacked my powers, but Luca truly suffered and I didn't want that for him.

The sound of car tires, thankfully, interrupted my musings and I went outside to welcome the first arrival. It was Shane. I made brief introductions and he hiked a brow at me. I confided a while ago that Jeremy was my ex. That I essentially got dumped for a ghost. One day, I'd laugh about that but today wasn't that day.

Shane and Jeremy talked for a minute before he resumed his wood chopping. I could only imagine what or who he might be thinking about as he hacked that poor tree into pieces.

"Feeling awkward?" Shane stood by me in the doorway as we watched Jeremy work.

I shrugged. "I'm kind of use to being in awkward situations or suffering from secondhand embarrassment."

"He's huge," Shane snorted. I laughed a little. "Something tells me he didn't exactly look like that before the hunter's curse."

I shook my head. Jeremy had been buff, sure, but this Jeremy was a monster, a bonafide hulk. "Why do they call it the hunter's curse? How can ridding the world of vampires be classified as a curse?"

"Because it becomes a fixation," Shane explained. "Hunters kill and don't even bother to ask questions. Friend, foe, ally, family, no one is exempt. If you're part of the undead you're public enemy number one, and you have to die as swiftly as you were made. Little by little, and with each kill a hunter begins to lose his humanity."

Hmm, after hearing that a hunter didn't sound much different from a vampire. "Are you sure your method will help curb Jeremy's desire to kill Elena?"

"She's kind of his anchor to his humanity, and she has to be removed so he can do what he needs to do. If I can suppress it…then he should be fine."

"Are there any side effects?"

"Not that I know of. Excuse me," Shane disappeared back inside before I could even ask if he had done something like this before.

He was a researcher, a professor of the occult, studied and traveled religiously so I had faith he knew what he was doing. Hopefully.

The hour of truth approached with Elena and Damon's arrival. Jeremy immediately went stiff, clung to the handle of the ax like he was seconds away from throwing it and that left the vampires a little immobilized in the car. Seeing their faces, their fear if they made any sudden moves that'd be it for them was a bit a funny, I won't lie about that. But I went up to Jeremy, spoke to him in a dulcet tone, and told him to trust me.

His calm demeanor had been nothing but a front the second he invited Elena inside and tried to stake her in the back.

I had another long day ahead of me, and my mood certainly wasn't being helped by Damon's presence. He didn't trust Shane and never let the man walk two feet without letting him know.

Damon and I didn't really speak. Yet when you went out of your way to avoid someone that's when the universe decided you should run into each other at every single twist and turn.

We bumped into each other in the hallway when I went to go check up on Jeremy to see how he was doing after the first round of Shane's hypnosis.

"Excuse me, your holiness," he stated condescendingly but didn't move out of the way.

I ignored him which only made Damon more determined to be in my face. "What?" I glared up at him.

"Do you honestly think dangling Elena, the very person Jeremy is trying to kill in his face in order to curb his appetite to kill her is going to work? That'll be like locking Stefan in a room full of blood bags or bleeding humans in order to help him kick his blood addiction."

"So what do you suggest?"

"That Jeremy uses someone else to temper his need to kill. Someone he had warm and fuzzy feelings for."

I knew what he was getting at but I couldn't deny myself the opportunity to make Damon feel all of two feet tall. "Or, we could just transfer Jeremy's need to kill Elena on to you," I smiled charmingly. "It would only be fair considering you snapped his neck, and threatened his life so many times I've lost count. I don't understand why she likes you," that last part totally slipped out unintentionally.

Damon grinned cockily, "Obviously because you haven't had sex with me."

"Classy," my eyes rolled and I pushed Damon out of the way.

As much as he annoyed me even I couldn't overlook the fact he had been right. Using Elena was the wrong way to go about things and I said as much to Shane. Besides, we hadn't been making any sort of progress. Every time Jeremy went into a trance he basically blamed Elena for the systemic murder and death of their family, and even made jabs about her choice in men. Not laughing or nodding in agreement had been a little difficult.

By nightfall things had been looking up. Jeremy could be around his sister for ten minutes before wanting to rip her head off. Periodically, Elena would go outside to speak with Damon when things got too tense. I couldn't hear what they were talking about but from the looks of things it appeared she was trying to convince him her love for him was real. Damon didn't look swayed, only resigned that it would only be a matter of time before her love for Stefan came rushing back to the surface.

"Sire bonds are an interesting thing, wouldn't you say?" Shane slithered up beside me.

"You know about them?" I nodded my head in Damon and Elena's direction.

"I've been filled in by a very angry and desperate man who's spent a majority of his time not wanting to put any stock into my beliefs, but was willing to listen to my take on his predicament."

"I just don't understand how one day she could go from being all about Stefan to following Damon around like a lost puppy. It's like…" _they traded places._

"What I find even more perplexing is her total lack of anger at the fact Damon hasn't released her from the bond. Not entirely, anyways."

I turned to face Shane, then. "What do you mean?"

"Just look at them, Bonnie. The entire afternoon her eyes never stopped following him. She's found every reason she could think of to talk to Damon, or touch him. Not the behavior of someone who is aware her behavior is being molded according to someone else's will. Had they been like that before she became a vampire?"

"No…they were…close."

"But not lovers."

"Elena had too much respect for Stefan to fool around with his brother behind his back." _I think._

"I figured as much. But there's something else I found even more interesting."

"What?"

Shane leaned a little closer and whispered, "Your eyes followed him around, too."

* * *

Shane was crazy. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and called him eccentric, but nope he was crazy. Mental. Certifiable. If he thought I had some kind of hidden attraction for Damon Salvatore, Shane needed to lay off the weed.

I stood at the end of the pier admiring the stars. An activity I hadn't done in a long time. I couldn't turn my thoughts off to save my life, but I did begin to go over everything with a fine tooth comb.

Had I stopped viewing Damon as a threat and began to think of him as a friend? No, that was impossible. Or maybe before he turned my mom I may have flirted with the idea of us being frenemies. However, it couldn't compete with the way he felt about Elena and so I never did more than what was necessary to build up anything between us.

There was no _us_ and there never would be. A man like Damon only seemed capable of loving one person at a time and for a very long time. And…I didn't like him. He, being the antithesis of the qualities I wanted in a friend or anything more. No we just weren't a fit.

But, how could I explain those feelings that churned in my stomach whenever he got within inches of me? How could I explain why his relationship with Elena irritated me? How could I explain the times I relied on him more than Stefan and even Caroline when we played keep away with Klaus' coffins?

None of that added up to anything. Except, maybe my attitude toward him began to change when he said he was Team Me when Abby showed up to tell me how to do the desiccation spell she didn't think I could pull off.

I knew I was only useful to Damon based on how much power I had to keep the person he truly loved—alive. I wasn't exactly a person to him. A force. A weapon. A magic wand. I was everything and nothing but what I truly was. A girl who just wanted the same things everyone else had access to.

No, I didn't like Damon. I wasn't attracted to him in the slightest.

I shuffled on my feet to head back to the house since the temperature was plummeting. When I did and cleared about half of the pier, I stopped abruptly seeing two silhouettes lean into each other. Though they were partly covered in shadow it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing.

Lowering my eyes I hurried my footsteps and journeyed back inside the warmth of the house.

Jeremy was in the living room sorting through boxes of Christmas decorations. I joined him and tried not to think about what was happening feet away.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Almost like my old self. I don't know."

"Just give it time."

"You don't mind me using you as my anchor as not to go into a berserker rage considering we're not…I mean we haven't exactly been…I messed up," Jeremy stammered.

If he was looking for me to say it was okay, it didn't matter anymore I wasn't going to absolve him. What Jeremy did, hurt. It broke my heart and I didn't have too many pieces of my heart left for anyone to tamper with. So I hardened what was left.

"You did," I finally said.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie. You deserved better than how I treated you. You deserve better than me. I just want…I really want you to be happy. And maybe one day we can be friends again."

I smiled sadly because that was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in a while. Not discounting the compliments Shane paid me. I figured he only did it so I could trust him.

"Maybe," I offered and said no more than that.

We were alone for an additional five minutes before Elena came back inside with Damon following closely behind her.

I stared at Damon willing myself to hold his gaze and feel nothing. Not anger, not aggravation, not anxiety, not…not anything. I willed myself not to be taken by the spectacular blue quality of his eyes, the shape of them, how his pupils dilated, none of that was to register in my brain. Not his abnormally handsome face. Not his lean body. Nothing.

He looked at me, face unreadable and the battle of wills started. Damon remained parked at the sliding glass door as Elena hesitantly approached and sat down on the opposite side of the table wearily casting her gaze on Jeremy to see if he might lunge for her. When he smiled she released the breath she had been holding. All the while I never backed down from Damon's probing.

He hiked a brow in the air and his lip was pulling upward at the corner in a smirk.

My buzzing cell phone made me jump and I hastily dug it out of my coat pocket, screened who was calling, and answered. "Hey dad…no I won't be much longer. I'm about to get on the road in the next few minutes. Everything all right?" Pause. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

"You're about to leave?" Elena stated the obvious.

I nodded.

Shane came into the room then with his bag. "I'm about to head out myself," he directed his next comment at Jeremy, "Remember what we talked about."

"I got it."

"Elena…Damon…pleasure as always," Shane said officiously which neither vampire really bought. "Bonnie if you're ready I'll walk you out."

I stood, grabbed my jacket and purse, hugged Elena, told Jeremy good night, and didn't say anything to Damon. He merely turned his entire body and watched as Shane and I headed to the front door and left.

I questioned, "Do you think it's a good idea to leave the three of them alone?"

"Damon has proven he's more than capable of putting out any fires should they arise. I'm glad you're heading home, though. I can tell this place, being around certain people makes you sad. But you won't always be sad, Bonnie, or feel like you're coming in second place."

Tears wanted to well into my eyes but I blinked them away. I vigorously nodded my head and leaned my dead weight against my car that was in serious need of a wash. I thought I had been putting up a good front in hiding my feelings, but Shane was adept at reading between the lines better than the people who've known me almost my whole life.

I opened my car door. "Thanks, Shane for helping. I really do appreciate all the time you've given."

"It's worth it because you are. Drive carefully, Bonnie. I'll see you at our usual time next week."

"Okay."

As I backed away from the house I thought I saw someone leaning against the front door. When I looked again no one was standing there. I probably imagined that.

* * *

I wish this were a dream. That I wasn't really standing in front of a crowd of dozens of Mystic Falls' citizens wearing a dress so thin I might as well have been naked. A silver microphone was the only barrier between me and the audience and did nothing to shield my quaking hands. I tried to resurrect the Bonnie who thrived during football games, screaming at the top of her lungs, executing somersaults over asphalt without a hint of fear.

That Bonnie had long since packed her bags and headed off to brighter territory. This Bonnie draped in a one shouldered white gown about to sing in public for the first time since middle school could barely hold her head up to face the dizzying crowd. It was cold tonight but heaters had been strategically placed around the stage and concealed so I was warm, but still shivering. My hair blew intermittedly, and I took a deep cleansing breath once the track began to play.

Someone shouted, "Go Bonnie!" and a smile inadvertently curled my lips. Then, I opened my eyes, took a panoramic view of the crowd, paused briefly on someone who stood out among the masses, before looking down again.

I don't know how I let Caroline talk me into performing for the Harvest Festival. She called me in a panic saying one of the performers backed out at the last minute, and they needed an alternate. That's when she remembered I had taken vocal lessons growing up and been a part of the choir my freshman and sophomore year. I whined and said I didn't want to do it, and asked why couldn't she sing. Caroline said her name was basically splattered everywhere and didn't want to come off as looking like she's desperate for the limelight. So here I stood coming to my friend's rescue yet again.

The spotlight was aimed at me and after counting down in my head, I opened my mouth.

_I've seen the world_

_Done it all_

_Had my cake now_

_Diamonds, brilliant_

_And Bel Air now_

_Hot summer nights, mid-July_

_When you I were forever wild_

_The crazy days, city lights_

_The way you'd play with me like a child_

I was no Lana Del Rey, but I poured what I was feeling into the lyrics singing it to some imaginary man I had yet to meet who would be everything I could possibly need and more. That we would be a perfect, imperfect fit for one another; and I wouldn't fear losing him to a fucking ghost because the thought of leaving me for any reason caused him nothing short of unbearable pain.

_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?  
I know you will, I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

I chanced a peek at the crowd. Some people were swaying. Many were holding up their cells with the flashlight on in lieu of holding up lighters. And others were recording me on their iPads. That made me nervous and I snapped my eyes shut once more.

_I've seen the world, lit it up_

_As my stage now_

_Channeling angels in the new age now_

_Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll_

_The way you play for me at your show_

_And all the ways I got to know_

_Your pretty face and electric soul_

I repeated the chorus again, and began to add movement instead of being completely stiff like a corpse. A gale wind blew from the northwest and ruffled the hem of my gown as it fluttered around my feet. As I began to sing the bridge I focused my eyes on the night sky.

_Dear Lord, when I get to heaven_

_Please let me bring my man_

_When he comes tell me that you'll let him in_

_Father tell me if you can_

_Oh that grace, oh that body_

_Oh that face makes me wanna party_

_He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds_

The past few months caught up with me. The times I ran around like a chicken with no head. The times magic failed me and I failed my magic. The times I had been walked on, the arguments, the bloodshed, the nights spent tucked in a ball crying my eyes out and stifling the sound so my dad wouldn't hear, and even if he did he might not even care why I was upset. The times I downplayed my own pain as not to inconvenience anyone. Maybe I had been silently crying out to be saved, to be noticed, to be wanted. But I knew I needed someone to care and if I couldn't care about myself then why should I expect someone else to do the job for me? Despite all of that, I wanted to shine.

_Will you still love me_

_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_

_Will you still love me_

_When I got nothing but my aching soul?_

_I know you will, I know you will_

_I know that you will_

_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_

The music drew to a close and finally I stared at individual members of the crowd. "Thank you," my voice sounded extra husky through the microphone. There had been a dramatic pause and I thought for one frightening moment I bored everyone to tears, but then the claps started, followed by whistles, and cheers. A few people mainly Matt and Caroline yelled encore, but I gave a quick bow and hastily exited off the stage.

My friends, using that term lightly, had convened around the outer ridges of the festival. Plenty of people stopped me and told me how nice they thought my performance was, and many more were surprised I could sing to begin with. I accepted their praise with all the graciousness and humbleness I could muster, and came to a stop in front of four vampires, one hybrid, and two humans.

Caroline was the first to throw her arms around me and nearly choked me to death. I patted her back, stepped away, and demurely stared at my feet. Quite a few began speaking at once, and I nodded my head, smiled, acted as if it were no big deal. My discomfort only grew once I noticed the most vocal of the bunch had remained exceedingly tight-lipped. I didn't want to think about what Damon may have thought of my singing. I told myself his opinion didn't matter, but my ears were waiting to perk up at the slightest inflection of his voice. I had been thinking about him too much since the lake house.

Stefan was there and appeared to be in extreme pain. He probably only came out tonight as a favor to Caroline. Hardly anyone could tell her no and mean it.

I addressed him specifically because he had a good indication of how I felt. "How are you, Stefan?"

My question startled him. Stefan probably thought he was the last person I'd want to talk to. "I'm doing…I'm okay. How've you been?"

"Same, trying to get better every day."

Out the corner of my eye I saw Elena looking between us.

"The voice of an angel and the body of a goddess."

The group fell silent as Klaus Mikaelson approached.

"What are you going here?" Caroline folded her arms tightly over the bodice of her dress.

Klaus spared her nothing more than a glance before looking at me. I stood a little taller in my shoes wondering what he wanted outside of the making us go on the offensive.

"I merely wanted to congratulate Miss Bennett on exposing us to another one of her various talents. It's nice to discover she's more than a one trick pony."

"Thank you for talking about me like I'm not standing right here," I shifted so I could stare at Klaus head on. _And you would know about ponies wouldn't you? _"I'm glad you enjoyed the performance, Klaus. I sang that just for you."

He blinked and I could _hear _the confusion amongst the group.

"You did?"

I nodded. "You'll find out what I mean later," I refaced my friends. "I can't stick around, guys. I have somewhere else I have to be."

"Where are you going?" Caroline prodded.

"I have a date."

Again, there seemed to be confusion as those gathered shifted on their feet, and traded dubious looks with one another because me and date were not two words thrown together in the same sentence. Sadly, I shook my head and wondered off.

* * *

Hours later, after paying the cabbie, I wobbled in my heels towards my front door, shifting through the keys on my ring to find the one for the front door. I hiccupped, giggled, and hummed a little tune to myself replaying the holiday party Shane had invited me to. We spent the night discussing everything except mythology while tossing back Schnapps and I may have smoked my first blunt.

My head was up in the clouds while my feet danced over frozen concrete and grass. I hummed the chorus to "Young and Beautiful" the song I sang tonight—loudly, and a throat cleared scaring me and causing me to drop my keys.

I spun around expecting to see my dad. It was close to two in the morning. I was a little intoxicated, high, and had been in a room full of strangers older than me, and I hadn't told him where I had been headed.

I grimaced upon seeing it was Damon. "What do you want? Why are you here? I'm not in the mood to come to anyone's rescue tonight. I'm tired," I hiccupped again.

He approached, clearing the space between us in less than three strides. He bent and retrieved my keys from the ground and handed them over to me. "You want the truth…I really don't know why I'm here. You see someone spiraling and I guess you want to watch."

"You think I'm spiraling?" I pointed at my chest, swayed, and laughed. "I'm not spiraling. I'm crashing toward rock bottom and I'm almost there," I sang off key.

"Were you with Shane?"

I ignored his question and posed one of my own. "Why is it everyone can have fun but me? Why can everyone have multiple lovers but me? Why can everyone say what's on their mind and not be condemned for it _BUT ME! _" I didn't mean to raise my voice but my anger was swift and I was in a boiling rage.

The lights on the porch burst and shards of glass rained down. Damon and I stared unblinking at each other.

"I'm tired of feeling sad and not good enough. Shane sees something in me," I wiped accumulating mucus from my nose and the tears were falling freely now, and I really didn't care I was crying in front of Damon. "Being around him makes me happy and that's all I want."

"That's not all you want."

I snorted, sighed, and saw my breath in the air. "You're right. I do want more. What I want just doesn't want me," I turned and walked the remaining distance to the door.

"How do you know, Bonnie?"

I kept my back to Damon. "I just do."

I hissed lowly in my throat when he laid his cold hand on my exposed shoulder. He physically turned me around. "I don't know what's happening to you, but I don't like it. Shane is manipulating you."

"Any guy who pays me attention is automatically manipulating me?" that question sounded ridiculous as I drunkenly remembered Ben McKittrick, and a few others who only showed interest in me because they had been after something or someone else. I rotated my shoulder out from Damon's grasp. "Why are you here?"

"I'm worried about you."

I laughed merrily at that. "Yeah, right. Elena sent you here, didn't she? Tell her I'm fine and not to worry. I'm not going to go after Stefan just because he and I exchanged words."

Damon's eyes narrowed.

"Besides, he's not the Salvatore I want."

My eyes ballooned when that damning piece of news rolled the hell off my drunk ass tongue. The expression on Damon's face was nothing less than priceless. Like a deer rammed him from behind.

I closed my eyes practically willing Damon into another universe. "I didn't mean…that didn't come out right. I didn't mean to say that."

Much to my disappointment he was still standing in front of me when I opened my eyes, still looking shocked and dumbfounded.

"Please just go, Damon and chalk this up to the drunk and high ramblings of a confused and embittered witch."

He took a step back, drawing the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. "You definitely own the patent on saying shocking shit to me, Bonnie. You can't say something like that to me and expect me to just ignore it. But I'm curious. When did…when did your feelings change?"

My cheeks burned and I stared at my feet. "I don't want to talk about this because I don't want to feel anything for you. Especially when you're in love with my best friend who's sired to you. Just please…do me one and forget what I said. I won't be saying it again."

I knew it would be a cold day in hell before I said how Damon made me feel to his face, and a blizzard for him to repeat any sentiment hinting at affection for me.

"Bonnie," he tried.

I quickly turned around, jammed my key in the lock, opened the door, and flew inside. I walked as calmly as I could to my bedroom and once I got there I threw myself on the bed.

Hot tears slid down my cheeks and pooled in my ears, and wet my pillow.

I didn't want to love him. I didn't want to feel anything for the person I allowed to treat me like shit or less than important, yet in his own way had been there for me. Other than Shane, Damon did see something in me, and what he saw I wanted to be. But I needed to be that for myself and no one else. I just had no clue on where to start.

When it came to matters of the heart, Elena didn't know how good she had it. She never pined over anyone. Never had to deal with rejection, unrequited feelings, or total aloofness. She was lucky and I was doomed.

Damon Salvatore was my damnation and maybe even my salvation rolled into one. It was impossible though. I just knew it was.

* * *

The next time I saw Damon he was standing next to Elena huddled in a corner at the Grill dangling mistletoe over her head. She beamed up at him, stood on her toes, and aimed to kiss him, but Damon turned his head and she caught his cheek.

My belly rolled and I warred with leaving or staying. I didn't want to make running a practice and knew I'd have to get used to seeing the two of them being openly affectionate with one another. Didn't mean I had to gawk and stare. I tramped down those counterproductive feelings, and headed for my usual booth. I played around on my phone after I took a seat, and waited for someone to come take my order.

A shadow loomed over me and I slowly glanced up to see who it was. Something green flashed out of the corner of my eye and I noticed it was mistletoe.

"Tis the season, Judgy," Damon waggled the deadly flower over my head.

"I'm not drunk anymore, Damon. You think I'm going to let you kiss me?"

"The tradition dictates that you do."

"Are you playing a game? Because if you are, I'm not interested."

"Tell that to someone more gullible. You have two options. The hard or easy way."

I opted to look away.

Damon sighed and slid into the booth beside me.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded and frantically looked around to see if Elena was still present. I couldn't have been sitting alone for more than a couple of minutes before Damon sauntered over, painfully reminding me of the idiot I turned myself into in front of him.

"Since you insist on doing things the hard way I figured I just accommodate you."

"You're enjoying this aren't you? I'm now in a position to have to eat my words…"

"Look, Bonnie, drunk or not I know it took a lot for you to say what you said. I can either believe you or write it off."

"So?" I questioned when Damon didn't elaborate. The last thing I wanted was to have to walk on eggshells around him, or feel exposed like a nerve.

"I," Damon scratched the back of his neck, "I'm flattered…I won't lie about that."

"I wasn't trying to flatter you."

"I know you weren't. Just…I never looked at you that way and I _never _thought you viewed me as anything more than a pain in your ass."

"You still are," I told him just so he'd know that though my feelings for him might be evolving that didn't include my opinion.

He grinned looking slightly relieved not everything between us was different. "I don't know where things will go from here. I'm…with Elena," those words weren't spoken with absolute confidence.

I looked away. "I know and the last thing I want to do is be the other woman or come in between whatever the two of you are trying to build. She…needs you."

Damon nodded. "She needs you, too. I really have no idea what to do because I've never been in this position before. It's weird," he sounded too bemused and pleased by that.

"Even weirder consider the person who's put you in the middle."

"Exactly." Pause. "So can we agree that nothing changes?"

I swallowed and reluctantly nodded. These…_feelings_ I had for him would pass soon enough. I was sure of it. My heart, however, wanted nothing to do with my impassivity.

"You have a nice set of pipes by the way," Damon said.

I brought my curious gaze back to the vampire sitting to my right. "Thanks."

"Did you really dedicate that song to Klaus?"

My lips twitched as I tried to not smile. "Would you care if I did?"

Damon leaned back and tossed his arm over the back of the booth. "I don't really care who you sing to so long as it's not Stefan."

I looked him up and down before snorting and shaking my head. "You really need to let that complex go."

"Can't," Damon purposely made his eyes bug out. "It's part of my charm. Buy me a drink?"

"No."

He shrugged. "Go dutch?"

"Absolutely."

"This won't make us friends if we split an order of fries will it?"

"I'll probably want to kill you before the night is over."

"It has been a while since you've planted me on my ass. Kind of miss it. I think we'll be all right."

"Yeah, but…don't think I'm not going to tell you about yourself once you begin to smell yourself."

Damon laughed. "Honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way. I like you, Bonnie. Just the way you are."

I warmed a little, "And...you're not being terrible for once," I smiled, and plucked the mistletoe out of his hand. I examined it for a while.

"What are you planning on doing with that?" Damon asked, his thigh touching mine.

"The possibilities are endless."

The end.

**A/N: I'm not completely satisfied with this ending but I tried to keep Bonnie IC as much as possible and I don't think she'd ever kiss her best friend's boyfriend. Much too loyal for that, but her heart can't help feeling what it wants pertaining to a certain Salvatore. I may continue this drabble later to see how things have progressed in the future. Next up will be Benzo. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think. Until next time, love you!**


	3. Bonnie Robb Stark Enzo-Honor Bound

**A/N: Hi y'all. Okay so gorging myself on 3 seasons of Game of Thrones in one weekend, I have grown a mini-obsession with Robb Stark. If you read Series 2 of Vigne I mentioned Bonenzo would be up and in a way they are, just not in the way you think. This features mostly Bonnie/Robb Stark with a splash of Bonenzo at the end. This is all-human/AU and the plot is all original work, no story line borrowed from either GoT or TVD. Features minor lemons. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters, with the exception of Robb Stark he belongs to George R.R. Martin/HBO, are the creative property of LJ Smith/CW Network. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

"You honestly expect me to be able to think straight while you lie there," his eyes trailed down the sensuous and tempting hills and curves of her body—like an hourglass that had been tipped over she was, "with no clothes on?" he managed to get his point across though he sounded thirsty once completing his sentence.

A feminine chuckle which sounded more like a purr than anything else was his reward for such a statement. "It's not my fault if you let distractions interfere with your ability to strategize."

"You're not being fair," he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He shouldn't have done that because he still saw snippets of her unblemished caramel skin flash like a blinking neon sign before him.

Opening them once more he stared at this woman—his woman. Her skin absorbed the candlelight reflecting back to him layers of velvety and burnished gold skin. The muted light also made the pupils of her eyes enlarge that he could hardly distinguish her incandescent emerald irises. She blinked owlishly at him almost as if she crooked a finger and asked him to come closer. She was a gravitational force, a femme fatale, the possessor of his heart, the love of his life.

And she was leaving him.

Robb Stark knew it. Knew it as well as the phases of the moon and the howl of the wolf, the animal that seemed to have adopted his family, or maybe it was the other way around.

"There's not much fair when it comes to business or matters of the heart, Robb," she admonished.

He guffawed, "I won every battle. But I'm losing this war."

"Poor man," she pouted playfully.

Unable to help himself, Robb knew if he continued to give her an appraisal he wouldn't be able to speak the words he had been holding in for centuries it seemed. Plus, staring at her unabashed kept him hard and ready to glide back into her warmth splayed between her supple thighs. She was the quintessence, Venus di Milo, the Trojan horse not Helen of Troy. A thief in the night and a man's downfall. Robb had been foretold of all those things by his mother from the second Bonnie Bennett walked into that boardroom in downtown Atlanta.

This was supposed to be a clean merger. Two investment conglomerates joining forces: North Industries and Prodigal Consolidated to decimate their common competition, the Lannister run Kings Landing, LLP. The alliance between the two families the Starks and Bennett's had sent a mini-shockwave through the private sector, and had people scrambling in vain to stop it. Paperwork had been signed, shares divided, an even ownership of their unilateral company established, but the second azure eyes landed on the acting CEO of Prodigal Consolidated, Robb Stark found every excuse he could to remain in Atlanta after the deal had gone through.

Beauty and brains, Bonnie Bennett was a rich and poor man's wet dream. Her keen mind for business, her willingness to be cutthroat and unwavering pretty much hammered in Robb's desire to make his intentions known.

Never mix business with pleasure his father often harped that sentiment in his eldest son's ear because Robb was a chick magnet. Women could hardly resist taking a peek or two or five whenever he strolled by. The heir to the Stark empire took the adoration in stride. His thick mane of curly sable hair, trim beard, neoclassical features, and lean physique appealed to an array of women. And at any given moment he could have his pick of them, but Robb didn't use women like Kleenex like his friends and acquaintances did. Perhaps it was his old fashioned moralism which made him date monogamously, in any case when Robb saw Bonnie for the first time the pursuit had started, and he was determined to make her his.

It had not been easy. Bonnie kept throwing up walls. Ropes, ladders, even a catapult hadn't been enough to breach them, but Robb soon learned in some situations it was best to follow silent cues in order to figure out how to proceed.

Once the deal had gone through, the champagne brought out, hair was let down and tongues began wagging. Bonnie had remained apart during the celebratory gala, standing on the outskirts observing with those hawk-like shrewd orbs of hers that didn't seem to miss anything.

Robb placed himself right in her line of sight, tipped his glass in salute towards her, and moved on to engage an analyst from his company in conversation. Every few minutes or so he would look up and find her eyes lingering on him, but Robb offered nothing more than a cordial smile in return.

An hour or so passed and a server bumped Robb on the shoulder and hastily handed a business card to him. Seeing who it was from, Robb hardly resisted smirking. When he turned the card over and saw her elegant scrawl telling him her hotel room number, Robb finished off his champagne, kissed his mother on the cheek, gave his father a firm handshake, hopped behind the wheel of his sports coupe, and flew down the streets of Atlanta arriving at his destination in minutes.

Taking the elevator to the seventeenth floor of the Ritz Carlton, Robb knocked three times, waited, and the vision that welcomed him once the door parted made breathing almost painful.

He never would have suspected that nude lingerie with white trim could look so naughty and nice at the same time. He was pulled inside.

Robb wanted to know why Bonnie came to this decision. Why she wanted him. And just as he opened his mouth to begin his diatribe, a lone finger pressed against his lips rendering him silent.

"Shhh, we've done enough talking," a sultry voice commanded.

Their lips met in a new merger, hands attacked flesh, and Robb found nirvana.

That had taken place three months ago. Their courtship revolved around dinner, sex, business symposiums, and the occasional outing to either a sports game or movie. In his hectic world of corporate politics, being with Bonnie tethered Robb to the real world. This had been nothing but a dream, a respite—he knew this, but had been incapable of preventing himself from falling.

"Come back to bed," Bonnie lowered her eyes coquettishly. "We don't have to be anywhere for a few more hours."

"A few more hours for you to torture me," Robb countered and thrust his arms into his Henley shirt, and pulled on his hastily discarded boxers.

Bonnie sat up in bed causing those pert breasts of hers to stand high on her chest and draw Robb's avarice gaze. "Are you still upset about what I told you?"

"What do you think? I'm supposed to accept it and do what exactly?"

"Move on."

Robb chuckled humorlessly. "I can't just turn it off like a faucet you know. I'm in far too deep."

Bonnie nodded and regretted things had carried on the way they had. She loved Robb. There was no question about it, but she was a woman with obligations, and those obligations had been in place long before Robb Stark entered her life by crossing over the threshold of her boardroom that April morning.

"I don't mean to hurt you, Robb," she confessed regrettably. "You just came in my life at the right and wrong time."

Robb sat down on the edge of the four poster bed. "Don't remind me."

Slithering closer, Bonnie wrapped her arms around Robb's shoulders and kissed his cheek. "You mean so much to me, but my son…I want him to grow up in a two-parent household."

Robb tensed at the mention of Bonnie's two year old son fathered by another man, a man she had an on again, off again relationship with for the last five years. When Enzo Riodan walked out of her life the last time he made up his mind a long term relationship wasn't what he wanted, he left behind his seed, and nine months later Bonnie ushered a seven pound six ounce wiggling and wrinkle skinned little boy into the world.

Once Enzo learned the truth he made an attempt to come back and be a father, but he and Bonnie had too much bitterness between them, and months later he checked out once more. Now he was back and this time brought an engagement ring with him and proposed to Bonnie in front of the board of directors leaving her little choice but to accept.

However, Bonnie rescinded Enzo's offer behind the privacy of her mansion gates. Now it would appear she was having second thoughts.

"He's only going to leave you again," Robb contended. "He's a man without honor if he couldn't put his own selfishness aside and work things out the _first _time he came back after you gave birth to _his _son."

Bonnie gnawed her lip as guilt bit into her. Robb only knew her side of the story, the story she tailored so she wouldn't come off as being petty, which shamefully she had been. Enzo had been obdurate in making it work. However Bonnie, unable to bury the hatchet and start over made it impossible for Enzo to get a word in edgewise. In addition to that she never let one day pass by without reminding him of the times he broke his word to her and to their son, and how he made her feel expendable, and like his own personal toilet. Only around to dump his shit on her before storming out of her life when the arrangement was no longer convenient.

Bonnie loved her son—Braylon. He was her whole world. Her heart and her soul. She'd do anything for him. Do anything to see his gap tooth smile. Do anything to make sure he knew he was protected and loved and most of all wanted, even if his father couldn't pay a judge to sentence him to a clue.

"I know Enzo's track record speaks for itself. He's been spending more time with Braylon, and he's putting in a transfer with his job. He's…he's trying. Although that trying could use some more effort. I have to meet him halfway."

Robb shifted on the bed to better face Bonnie. "So marrying a man you don't love is what you consider meeting someone halfway?"

Sighing, Bonnie tucked her legs under her. "It's complicated. It's always been complicated between me and Enzo. I've known him for a long time, and I know to you it looks messed up and maybe it is, but I don't want Braylon to grow up in a broken home like I did. Look," she wrapped her slender fingers around Robb's chin and forced him to make eye contact, "I love you…but I have to do right by my son."

Robb's heart superheated at her admission and then ripped to pieces once the harrowing truth came filtering in. Bonnie loved him, they could have a life together, but she was going to create a false one with a man she didn't love all for her son's benefit. Somewhere deep inside Robb called her actions honorable, but they were severely misguided in his opinion. If he were in her shoes he'd probably do the same thing. Plus, his parents wouldn't hear of him having an illegitimate child out there. They would expect him to marry the woman he impregnated.

Times were different now. Blended families came in all shapes, sizes, ethnicities. If only she would see that.

Cupping her cheek, Robb pulled Bonnie forward and crushed his lips on hers. "Don't ask me to give you up," he pleaded.

Bonnie wrapped her hand around his wrist. "We both knew going into this it wouldn't last. You being here in Atlanta had always been temporary."

Robb cursed softly under his breath. That much was true. His stay in Atlanta was only supposed to last for the duration of the merger to take place. He drew more than suspicion when he would mutter an excuse for why he was headed some three thousand miles away every single weekend or whenever his scheduled allowed. His life, his roots were in San Francisco.

"If I...," the words got lodged in the back of Robb's throat. "If I asked you to marry me instead what would you say?"

The breath in Bonnie hitched. Would it ever be possible for her to have everything she's ever wanted in life and have it from one man? She didn't answer his question because she couldn't. Bonnie ran her fingers through Robb's curly locks and then rose from the bed.

His eyes followed her movements and he could see her erecting those walls again, keeping him out, prohibiting him from getting any closer.

Silk covered her nudity and Bonnie quickly fashioned the knot in her robe, poured herself a glass of water, and looked away.

"Bonnie?"

"Robb…we need to stop dreaming and face the reality of the situation."

"No," he was off the bed in a second, the glass in her hands went missing two seconds after that, and her lips were being smothered three seconds later.

Robb coaxed her lips apart with his tongue and swept it across the expanse of her orifice, licking the roof of her mouth, prodding her tongue with his until she mewled and whimpered.

His penis began to stiffen behind the cotton barrier his briefs, and the poke of her nipples against his chest turned him on. Robb breathed harshly through his nostrils and palmed one of Bonnie's fatty globes, kneaded it in his hand before pinching and twisting her nub. He shoved aside her robe until a breast popped out and it took no effort at all for it to find its new place in his mouth. She hissed at the feel of his mouth suctioning and suckling her and the scratchiness of his beard along her skin.

Bonnie's head fell back as she threaded her fingers through his endless curls; her nails raked his scalp, and before she knew it, she was on her back again, her robe disappearing from her body, and a latex sheathed hard cock entered her premises.

"I love you," Robb said through clenched teeth. "I can't let you go."

Scissoring her legs over his ass, Bonnie didn't want to let Robb go either, especially not while he plowed her garden.

"Marry me," he licked the curve of her shoulder.

"I…can't."

"You can."

"Braylon needs…"

"I can be his father."

A broken laugh and a semi-anguished cry emitted from Bonnie's lips. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I do," although at the moment his rationalism was being muddled by the exquisite tightness surrounding his manhood. "I can be his father. I can be…" he grunted, "I can be your husband."

"Robb," Bonnie leaned up and kissed him. "No more talking."

Heeding her words, Robb vowed to himself this wouldn't be the end of things between them. It couldn't end like this. It wouldn't.

Winding their fingers together and thrusting his hips, Robb made her come until Bonnie was dehydrated.

* * *

Entering the code to her security gate, Bonnie pulled her Mercedes CL Class down the winding drive and parked it in front of the two car garage. Grabbing her purse and overnight bag, she stepped one platform stiletto on the ground, exited her vehicle, and entered the house through the mudroom.

Walking through the industrial-sized kitchen she could hear the sound of the television and her little boy doing his best to sing along to the Disney tune in his usual gibberish. Smiling to herself, she quickened her steps and found him bouncing around the coffee table in the living room. Her eyes landed on her exhausted looking nanny who was more than relieved she had shown up.

Bonnie glanced at the TV monitor to discern which movie was playing. _The Lion King, _her absolute favorite when she was a child. She began singing along to "Hakuna Matata" garnering Braylon's attention. His large dark brown eyes lit up and his small chubby feet raced towards her.

"Mommy!" he threw his small arms around her legs. Bonnie bent down, picked up her boy, and swung him around and laid waste to peppering his soft, russet cheek with kisses. Braylon giggled and squirmed to free himself.

"Did you miss me?" Bonnie asked.

Braylon enthusiastically nodded his head and proceeded to tell Bonnie everything she missed in the twenty-four hours she had been gone combining the words he had mastered with those he made up on the fly.

"My goodness it sounds like you were very busy while I was gone," Bonnie kissed his cheek again and finally turned to address the au pair. "Thank you, Miss Carrington. Did he use the potty all by himself?"

"He did," the nanny rose from her seat and pulled down the hem of her poplin blouse. Mrs. Carrington was in her late fifties yet had the energy of a twenty-five year old. Bonnie wanted the mature woman's almond skin and wrinkle free eyes when she grew to be her age. Mrs. Carrington always reminded Bonnie of a young Eartha Kitt. Natural black hair cut in a pixie style, high cheekbones, and regality that she had been born with and perfected through years of weaving her way to racial and financial equality.

Mrs. Carrington closed the distance separating her from the mother and her adorable, cherub cheeked little boy with the dark curly hair, and large dark brown eyes. She rubbed an age speckled hand over Braylon's back.

"He's a sweetheart. Though he likes to believe he's in control," she whispered the last part conspiratorially to Bonnie who smiled.

It was indeed, true. Braylon Bennett-Riodan believed he ran everyone's universe and they were there simply to cater to all of his needs, jesters in his court, his source of endless entertainment. In many ways, the universe did come to a stop whenever he cried, or went full throttle when he had a tantrum. There were a lot of things in Bonnie's life she wasn't proud she had done, but having Braylon felt like her biggest achievement and everyday she lived in fear of messing up, of wrecking him or traumatizing him so horribly he wouldn't be able to function on his own.

Like with most mothers, Bonnie wanted to give her son the world, but she also knew balance had to be instituted and there would be a ton of things Braylon would have to work for and earn the old fashioned way. She could protect him from common dangers like germs, strangers, and his own reckless adventurous spirit. However, she couldn't protect him from others letting him down and not fulfilling their promises.

That's why she had been straddling the fence for so long in giving Enzo a definitive answer. Marriage. Her heart desired marriage, yet it also desired another man. A man who didn't live on her side of the continent, although that was easily rectifiable. Yet this man also wasn't Braylon's biological father and signing up to be a stand-in daddy didn't pan out sometimes.

"Do you want to go to Pinkberry?" Bonnie asked of her son.

The little boy bopped his head and clapped his hands together, giving her his widest smile. "Ice c'eam!" he shouted loudly making Bonnie's ears ring.

"Okay, go with Mrs. Carry to get your shoes on and use the bathroom."

"Okay, mommy," Braylon tried to jump out of Bonnie's arms, but she sat the wriggling boy down on his feet and he zoomed off to the staircase to his room.

With her son off doing that, Bonnie picked up her duffel with the intention of dumping it in her room, but the doorbell rang.

She wasn't surprised by who stood on her welcome mat. Bonnie actually expected him to show his face since the man seemed to have a specially built radar capable of detecting whenever she returned from one of her interludes with Robb.

Eyes as dark as a raven's feather and as intense as death stared at her through a square-shaped deeply tanned face. Bonnie's heart pounded, not an unusual symptom when dealing with Enzo Riodan, but an irksome one because after all the ups, downs, broken promises, shattered self-esteem, and limbo he put her through having any kind of reaction other than indifference shouldn't have occurred. And her heart wasn't pounding out of an animalistic attraction, but mostly out of dread she wouldn't be able to last five minutes without wanting to gouge his eyeballs with her fingernails.

Those eyes of his he used plenty of times to seduce her into submission to gain access to her heart and the sweet tangy nectar of her goodies, lowered and spotted the bag clutched in her hand.

"Caught you at a bad time?" he asked cheekily.

Bonnie pursed her lips in annoyance. "You're always catching me at a bad time. How many times have I asked you to call me in advance instead of just showing up? I could have been out with Braylon or had company over."

"Ashamed to be seen with me in public?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Enzo. What do you want? It's not your weekend to visit Braylon."

"I shouldn't need to make an appointment to see my son," he argued.

Bonnie scoffed. "You're right you wouldn't need to make an appointment if you had been here since day one. You know what," she held up a lone finger. "I'm not going to get into it with you right now. I was just on my way out to take Braylon for ice cream. You can come back next weekend."

She made a move to close the door in her ex's face, but he stopped its momentum with his hand. "I can't tag along? I'd really like to see my boy. It's been two weeks."

"Yeah and whose fault is that?" Bonnie voice went up an octave. "You were the one who decided flying off to Vegas to get wasted with your grad school buddies was much more important. He cried _all night_ when I told him you weren't coming." Enzo looked down guiltily. Bonnie continued. "You have so much growing up to do, Enzo. Your son isn't an accessory you can decide one minute you want to wear, parade around, and let others compliment you on, and stash it somewhere until it's needed again. And until you realize he deserves better, a hundred and ten percent commitment…I can't marry you. I won't because I know marriage won't change anything. Not between you and Braylon and definitely not between me and you."

Enzo's face had gone from cordial to fury during Bonnie's tirade. He pointed a finger in her face fed up with her judgmental self-righteousness pretending as if she were Mother of the Year. She was far from it. Leaving their son with the hired help to go off and screw a man, her business partner at that. She was no better than him. All right, so Bonnie contained her activities to when her scheduled allowed, whereas Enzo was liable to get missing at a moment's notice. Still, she was in no position to look down her nose at him. He was putting in a transfer with his job to be closer to his family, and he was willing to completely give up his bachelor lifestyle for the wife, kid, and white picket fence.

"You won't even give me a chance!" Enzo exploded. "And don't think I don't know about you fu—,"

"Daddy!" Braylon interrupted and threw himself at Enzo who was a little flummoxed to say the least.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She hated this situation. Hated the fact Braylon's opinion and love for his father wasn't convoluted and filled with resentment and bitterness like hers were. He was so blissfully ignorant and devoted to his father, Enzo could do no wrong in Braylon's too-trusting and innocent eyes. No, she didn't want to tarnish her son's image of his father, but she definitely wanted to clue him in on something's and warn him not to get too attached. But she knew it wasn't her place. Enzo, unfortunately, had parenting rights and Bonnie couldn't override them simply because he fucked up a few hundred times, and broke her heart.

"So what do you say?"

Enzo's accented voice broke into Bonnie's thoughts. She stared at the two men in her life with a furrowed brow. "What?"

"Braylon wants to know if I can come along to get ice cream."

Narrowing her gaze at her ex, Bonnie reluctantly looked at her expectant son. Just like Enzo to manipulate the situation and if she said no, it would paint her as the bad guy.

"Fine," Bonnie agreed through gritted teeth. "I need to drop this off in my room. Do you have a car seat in your truck or do you need to borrow mine?"

"I finally got one," Enzo announced with pride as if he built an amusement park for his offspring.

_Only took you two years to get one. _"Give me five minutes," Bonnie muttered and headed up to her bedroom.

During the short reprieve, more than anything Bonnie wished it were Robb holding Braylon in his arms placing that smile on her son's face. That was her dream. Enzo was her reality. Robb hadn't officially met Braylon. He had seen pictures, and listened to Bonnie's stories about the best part of her.

Despite that information it was all second-hand knowledge which only made the disconnect more prominent. Braylon might as well have been a unicorn to Robb, yet Bonnie had been adamant in keeping her personal life separate from her home life. She wouldn't expose her son to every man she dated knowing they probably wouldn't want to stick around for long after discovering she was a single mom. Not like it was uncommon these days, but if a man she was interested in had his own kids and baby mother—sometimes plural—to deal with the last thing he was looking for was an additional mouth to feed.

But should she settle? Go with what was familiar although it choked her? Did nothing but bring her misery? Bonnie knew she didn't love Enzo yet at the end of the day Braylon was her number one concern. Not her heart. Not her loins. However, why should she sacrifice being happy to live a lie?

Shaking her head, Bonnie changed clothes slipping out of her maxi dress into ripped jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and her Coach sneakers.

"It's just ice cream," Bonnie reminded herself and bolted down the stairs, stopping long enough to tell Mrs. Carrington about the change in plans who didn't look too thrilled about Enzo's interference, but ultimately held her peace about it. She didn't like him, either.

"Be careful," Mrs. Carrington cautioned and handed Bonnie's Braylon's Elmo book bag filled with his essentials. "Some men know exactly which weakness to appeal to."

"I know. That's what got me in this situation in the first place," Bonnie said shortly and walked out the door.

One of these days she was going to be one of those women who had it all. The love of her life, a real father to her son, a thriving career, and an endless supply of happiness. Today just wasn't that day.

The phone in her hand began ringing. Robb was calling.

Bonnie answered but said nothing.

"Bonnie?" Robb waited for her to say something. He could hear her walking and decided to just say what was on his heart and on his tongue from the moment Bonnie left his hotel room.

"I meant what I said. I know you want to do what you believe is right for your son, and…maybe it is…but I'm never going to stop wanting you. Loving you. Whatever you chose, I'll be there for you. Friend. Lover. Confidant. Whatever you need. Say you believe me."

Bonnie gripped the handle and opened the passenger side door of Enzo's Range Rover. She ignored Enzo's probing gaze. She knew he was trying to figure out who she was talking to.

Snapping on her seat belt, Bonnie finally responded. "I believe you."

Ending her call, she waited for Enzo to fire up the engine and pull out of the driveway. They just sat.

"What?" Bonnie turned to face him.

"That was him wasn't it?"

"I agreed you could take us out for ice cream. Not interrogate me about my phone calls. Can we go please?"

Enzo started the engine, "He's wasting his time. I plan to get you back, Bonnie. The _right _way."

Whatever, Bonnie thought dejectedly.

The end.

**A/N: And so there you have it. This does bring up several questions I'm sure lots of women and some men have had to ask themselves. Marry the person you made a child with versus being with the person you actually love. What would you do? And do you think Bonnie's making the right or wrong decision in being open to marring Enzo for Braylon's sake? Thank you so much for reading! I don't know which pairing is up next, I'll let the muse dictate. Until next time. XOXO**


	4. Bamon-Crave

**A/N: Here's another Bamon drabble. This is a follow up of my other Bamon drabble titled Covet. What you need to know about this: Bonnie and the gang are in college. Jeremy was never killed by Silas, Bonnie never died to bring him back; she's not the anchor, still a witch, and still harboring a major hard-on for Damon. Enjoy! I do plan to have a companion piece to this drabble.**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith/CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

The windows were fogged up. They promised this would be the last time they would do this but knew as soon as those words passed their lips—they had been lying.

Soul mates had a difficult time staying away from one another.

His red lips fluttered teasingly along her neck trailing a white-hot path of fire and heat to the corner of her jaw, skimming over her cheek, before landing on top of her mouth. Lips fused together, the sound of them struggling to breathe properly through their noses added an extra layer of urgency to the moment.

Her tongue circled his and curled around his top teeth. She bit down on his bottom lip while his hands cupped and kneaded her voluptuous backside.

Movement on the other side of the door caught her ear and she ripped her mouth away, panting slightly. Pea green eyes wide with fear, heart hammering incessantly against her ribcage, face flushed.

They were begging to be caught.

"No one knows we're in here," Damon Salvatore breathed into her ear.

"Someone could be looking for us."

Capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger, Damon tipped her head back. He lowered his until he could peck the corner of her mouth and drew away just as quickly. "Let them look."

"Damon…" she started to protest but was silenced when his hand abandoned the globe of her ass to fondle the globe of her breast. "Mmmm…."

His other thumb teasingly circled her bud making it become erect and prod his inquisitive digit.

Her panties were already tangled around one ankle. Fishnet stockings ripped at the crotch. They had been in too much of a rush to properly get undressed and it would have consumed too much time. They only had a small window of opportunity to be together. But a fast and hard yet passionate fuck was what the two of them needed. As starved for one another as they had been it was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Even now Bonnie Bennett could feel Damon's jizz leaking out of her. She was glad vampires couldn't procreate, or she'd be in a world of trouble based on the load Damon shot into her the second he came.

"We need to get cleaned up and get back," Bonnie argued dreamily. She said the words because they were politically correct but she didn't mean them. Leaving this cramped bathroom was the absolute last thing she wanted to do.

Damon's hands found their way under her dress, "Come back to my place."

"I can't."

"Bonnie…" he groaned.

"Tomorrow," she compromised. "We'll see each other tomorrow."

"These stolen moments aren't enough for me anymore."

Bonnie smiled and nibbled Damon's ear. "They're not enough for me either."

Arching his neck to give her maundering lips better access, Damon glared up at the ceiling. "We should just tell everyone what they're already suspecting."

Bonnie talked around a mouthful of skin, "And ruin the suspense?" she shook her head.

Her small hand found their way to his groin, to that turgid muscle which was surprisingly warm to the touch and still wet from their combined juices. Damon wasn't completely hard but he wasn't completely soft either. With her careful manipulation, he began to lengthen, hardened until his manhood was curved up to his belly once more.

Damon sucked in a massive breath through his teeth. "Turn around."

Bonnie quickly obeyed, cinched her dress around her waist, arched her back, and rested her elbows on the small sink. She studied Damon over her shoulder.

He held his cock at the base and lathered the mushroom head with her lubricant. He circled her opening before slowly penetrating Bonnie's slick, slippery tight folds.

The rush of heat ran from the slit of his penis to his balls before oscillating everywhere. He could feel Bonnie in his hair follicles. Growing impossibly harder, Damon thrust forward until he bottomed out.

"Oh," Bonnie cupped a hand over her mouth to muffle her moans.

Her eyes crossed, toes curled. She was in heaven.

Damon leaned over her, bracing his hands over Bonnie's. "You're never leaving me, right?"

She shook her head.

"No I want to hear you say it."

"I'm never going to leave you, Damon."

"Good," and he proceeded to feed her his cock until the party happening on the other side of the door drew to a close…

That damn sex dream—yet another one, was on my mind as I got ready for tonight. The first time it happened I literally had to take a cold shower, and could barely look anyone straight in the eye. Thinking it was a one-time thing, two nights later I was hit with another one, much more erotic than the first. Now they were so frequent it was pointless in dreading them. Besides, they provided the only real relief my body craved since I couldn't exactly give into my subconscious wants.

But tonight I was attending the Bitter Ball. Really that was a euphemism for Single's Ball as a 'screw you' to Valentine's Day. The whole premise of the dance was for bitter exes to bring pictures of their significant other and shred them supposedly for emotional relief.

The things people in college will come up with to keep themselves entertained.

My freshman year in Whitmore had a rough start, to say the least. A lot of disappointing crap happened at the tail end of my senior year in high school that was better left in the past. Those I thought had my back, my best interest at heart ended up being another version of Ben McKittrick but a thousand times worse.

After being screwed over so much you'd think I'd learn how to discern who to trust, but sometimes I could be like a sponge. Desperate for the smallest amount of attention from an authority figure.

Atticus Shane turned out be a raving lunatic who only wanted to use me to awaken a two thousand year old immortal who could raise the dead. Not only had Silas been rumored to be able to raise the dead, but he allegedly had a cure for vampirism. Of course when that news became public knowledge everyone stopped in their tracks to search for this cure.

For Elena. Didn't pan out.

I still had nightmares of being on that island and being chased by a fossilized man thirsty for blood.

Damon had been the one to…well he stayed behind to find me after Shane and some hunter guy lured me away to perform the ritual to wake up Silas.

Jeremy had gotten injured and vampire blood wasn't healing his wounds. I was too messed up in the head because of that special tea Shane made me drink religiously that I had been of no use. Every spell I did went completely out of whack. So Jeremy had been shipped back off to the States while I wandered around lost in my own head while trying to hide from Shane and Silas.

I stumbled out into a clearing and there Damon stood apparently searching for me.

Those events on the island were a bit hazy but I could recall with a hundred percent clarity the relief on Damon's face that matched the relief stirring in my heart.

Since then, we've really had little to no contact with each other.

Elena continued to spiral as she grappled with being undead. She and Stefan grew farther apart as she and Damon grew closer to the point they decided to stop resisting their feelings and became a legitimate couple.

In spite of the sire bond.

For a while Damon pretended as if he floated around on Cloud 9 but I could tell, could see the doubt lingering in his eyes if Elena was only happy because _he _was happy. It was one thing to sit and wonder if your girlfriend might compare you with her ex who just so happened to be your brother. It became quite another when you had those pre-existing doubts coupled with knowing your will overrode her agency.

Due to Damon's insecurities and Elena's co-dependency they broke up, made up, only to break up once more.

They were in an off position at the moment with Elena being the one to call off their relationship this go around. So far they had been broken up for three weeks. Their longest separation to date.

Did I feel bad for having bi-weekly sex dreams about my friend's boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend? Yes. Naturally. I felt bad but I wasn't sorry about the dreams.

Elena and I…like most people who start neglecting and taking someone for granted began to drift away from one another. I had to put space between us to protect myself against feelings of resentment. Elena was invariably involved in the middle of some crisis, or somehow found herself being the center of someone else's crisis, but she had something I didn't always have. Support. I didn't want to hate her.

Caroline was there for me and Jeremy tried to be as much as I would let him. He wanted a second chance after he healed from his injuries. But because of my discordant affection for a particular immortal, it wouldn't have been fair to Jeremy to hop back on the dating horse when my heart, mind, and soul wouldn't be in it.

He said he understood but sometimes I would catch him scowling at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

For the moment I was strained from all my high school friends. With Matt living in Mystic Falls working full-time I hardly saw him. Tyler and I had never been that close and when he did come around he was tied up with Caroline. I avoided Elena as much as I could get away with without drawing speculation I was purposely avoiding her.

It was no easy feat being around the girlfriend of the guy you wanted for yourself.

To spare everyone embarrassing levels of awkwardness I thought it would be best if I lived with strangers rather than room with my two best friends. Caroline and Elena took it personally despite my best efforts to explain it would be good for us to get away from each other every once in a while. They, of course, didn't see it that way. Labeled me a separatist and eyed me as if I were the Sith lord.

My roommates Charity and Brooke were cool for the most part. They didn't hog our in-suite bathroom in the mornings, and picked up after themselves. It was a nice arrangement that worked out for everyone.

But I wasn't close to either one of them. Brooke and I had only hung out a couple of times. She was into Avatar and electro-pop. Charity…devoutly studious. She had plans to transfer to a division I school to study medicine.

Luckily I didn't have to rely on them when I was in the mood to actually exercise my youth and not act like someone's grandma. I made a few friends through my general studies courses, and met up with them at the local dive where I actually used every muscle in my face. Sang some horrible karaoke and rode the mechanical bull. Well, tried to.

For tonight I would be hanging out with Elena and Caroline, already prepping my ears to hear propriety information that will not benefit my life in any way, shape, or form.

Swabbing my bottom lip with my lip gloss applicator brush, I critically eyed my attire. I've already thought about changing out of my dress. When you've gone to enough legitimate and off-the-book funerals you have an arsenal of little black dresses at your disposal.

The one I'm currently donned in is a baby doll number with an empire waist, black lace overlay, and spaghetti straps.

I looked like I was twelve trying to pretend I was nineteen.

Capping my tube of lip gloss my hands automatically reached for the side zipper and I emancipated myself. I marched back to my armoire to resume another fruitless search for an uncomplicated dress.

Huffing, I pulled out the no thrills sleeveless black mini and slid it up my body. Thankfully I had curves which filled out the otherwise A-line number.

Someone started knocking on the door. Figuring it was Caroline, I yelled, "It's open," and turned back toward my closet looking for the right pair of shoes to give this dress some kind of pizazz.

"I don't think I've ever told you this before, Bonnie, but you have an _amazing_ ass."

I froze. That wasn't the voice of my bubbly and neurotic vampire BFF, but that of the one person I dodged on purpose.

Quickly I straightened my bent over posture, pivoted on my bare feet, and saw Damon Salvatore in the flesh standing in my dorm room.

He brought company in the form of a half-finished bottle of Elijah Craig that he was currently guzzling its contents like it was going out of style.

Damon kept his gaze locked on me while he drank and once he consumed about a third of what was left, he wiped his full bottom lip clean with the back of his hand.

I couldn't even say tension began to pop and crackle between us. More like acute awareness when you saw a spider hiding in the corner of your room when you were sure it hadn't been there before.

"What do you want?" I questioned him feeling inexplicably defensive. Don't know why. Damon was just gifted like that, and brought out that side of me.

"Oh you know," he began, his tone flippant, "was just out wandering around campus trying to find someone decent to eat when it came to me," Damon snapped his fingers, "I hadn't seen my favorite little witch in a while."

"Bullshit."

"So true," he winked and brought the bottle up to his puckered lips and proceeded to finish its contents. "I need you to do a locator spell."

"Who are you looking for?"

He grinned then and a creepy sensation coiled down my back. I knew that grin and what it represented.

"No way," I refused without hearing the name of the person he essentially wanted me to track down.

"You haven't even heard my sales pitch, Broomhilda."

"I don't care who it is you want found, Damon when I know the reason you want this person located is so that you can either torture them or kill them or both."

Damon laughed…drunkenly. "You are the wind beneath my diabolical wings. Just track down this turd of a professor and I'll be out of your hair. I even brought something for you to use."

Damon removed a piece of a shirt from his back pocket and slapped it against my chest. It was stained with blood. Ew.

I took a step back and crashed into the armoire. "I'm not going to help you kill someone, Damon because I know that's exactly what you have planned for whoever's blood this is."

He grimaced then and brought the bottle back to his mouth just to realize it was empty. He chucked it into the trashcan near my desk.

Damon sneered, "Everyone questions my morality when really _yours_ is the questionable one. You have no problem kidnapping someone because they might be a threat to Elena, or killing an Original knowing that'll wipe out their entire bloodline, but you want to turn your nose up at me because I simply want to find the asshole who tried to turn me into a guinea pig."

After listening to his tirade, I didn't need to ask the identity of the person. A couple of weeks ago, Damon had interrogated a microbiology professor by the name of Wes Maxfield on a possible cure for vampirism. Naturally, Damon's form of interrogation meant injecting the man with near fatal communicable diseases. Somehow, Wes was able to get the upper hand, gassed Damon, locked him away, and attempted to experiment on him.

Now he was looking for revenge since the good doctor got away with the help of some fanatics who called themselves The Augustine Group. Loosely, they thought they might be able to reprogram a vampire's diet and make them hunger for immortal blood. Thus, leaving humanity in peace.

The witch side of me kind of liked their plan. The human side of me thought this could blow up and leave a trail of bodies behind; therefore, they needed to be stopped.

For now, I wasn't for or against anything.

"I know what happened to you," I said, "and I know what I would do to get back at the person who hurt me, but when is this cycle ever going to end? You kill someone. A loved one of that individual comes sniffing around wanting revenge, and the rest of us are left to clean up your mess, Damon."

"I didn't fucking come here for a sermon or a lecture. Just do the spell and I'll be out of your hair."

"No!"

"No?"

"Is there an echo in here? I'm not setting you on a path to find this man and tear him limb from limb. Wes isn't your real problem."

Damon's cheeks were becoming surprisingly rosy. "Then what the hell _is _my problem since you think you know me so well?"

"It's Elena!"

Damon swallowed audibly. "I don't care about Elena or what she thinks."

I rolled my eyes. "You'll always care about Elena. She's your weakness."

He snorted. "I'm not alone in that department."

No, he wasn't. "Elena is your weakness, Damon. You try not to want her which only makes you want her more and you can't stand it. You tell yourself you're better off without her and you do this. Dive into old patterns hoping it might catch her attention even if the attention is negative. Just so long as she's focused on you, you convince yourself you're satisfied."

"Are you talking about you or me, judgey?"

I chuckled. "I'm not the one in love with her."

"Could have fooled me," Damon mumbled.

My eye narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing, Bonnie."

"You said that just loud enough on purpose. So please explain what you meant by your condescending remark."

Damon inhaled a massive breath and propped his hands on his hips. "All the shit you lost because of your association with Elena and yet…you haven't cut her out of your life. Why do _you _hold on to her so tightly?"

"Why do you?" I fired back. "Elena and I have had our ups and downs but I never let her destroy the relationship I had with my brother."

That was a low blow but I wasn't going to feel bad for saying it. No one—other than Caroline, had expressed their true opinion about Elena loving brothers. She was free to love whoever she wanted, but to have no remorse or scruples about the whole thing, that was the part I couldn't condone. The sire bond notwithstanding, things had been headed in that direction between Damon and Elena long before she became a vampire. It only hastened the inevitable.

All signs of life and animation left Damon's face. Then suddenly he laughed. "Elena and I get into a fight…I reluctantly talk to Stefan about it and he offers advice. My brother…the cheerleader. Even I know it kills him to have to hear and see our shit…he won't ever hold a grudge."

It was science fiction how accepting Stefan appeared to be of Elena and Damon being together. Unbelievable, really. I had challenges with looking my best friend in the eye and not wanting to douse her in the face with vervain. How Stefan could listen to his brother bicker and complain about the girl he still loved…I couldn't imagine it. I could pity Stefan and want to punch him at the same time for being such a fucking doormat.

"You and Stefan are just the same," he accused.

I frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"That instead of saying you're pissed off or doing something to show you're pissed off, you swallow down your hurt, your anger, your fury, block it like it doesn't even exist, refuse to let it out and for what? Who are you trying to prove a point to? You make yourself into a martyr when no one fucking asked you to. You've become so blase about everything."

"I'm not blase about everything," I refuted his claim.

Damon laughed again, hard and rough. "You checked out, Bonnie and you know you did. That fire you had," he averted his gaze for a second, "disappeared and it's never fully returned. Shitty things happen to you and you just sweep it under a rug like it's no big deal."

How the tables have turned. Here he came looking for my help, and now he wanted to school me on a subject I was more than versed with.

I didn't think Damon had paid me that much attention to see…I had crumbled, allowed personal tragedy to steal my confidence, my voice, and almost my life. But I was trying to climb my way out. Resurface to the Bonnie I used to be and not cower.

"You can leave," I jutted my chin toward the door. "I have somewhere I have to be."

As if just now noticing my attire, Damon dragged his eyes over my frame and I did what I could not to squirm.

"Don't like it when it's your turn to be under the microscope," he finally stopped ogling my assets.

"You came here looking for my help and I gave you my answer. There's the door."

Turning away from the inebriated vampire, I grabbed the first pair of pumps my hands touched and placed them on my feet. When I spun back around Damon was looming right on top of me.

"I haven't forgotten what you said to me that night you came home drunk in the wee hours of the morning after a night partying with that lunatic professor."

I blinked. "So?"

"You're probably over the moon Elena and I are finished. Admit it," he taunted.

"What's there to be happy about when I know the two of will settle your differences with another bout of mediocre sex, and never touch on your real issues?"

A corner of Damon's lips lifted and promptly fell flat. "Our sex life is far from mediocre."

I pushed him away and walked over to my dresser desperate to put some space between us. "Spare me the details."

"I've been in your shoes before, Bonnie. I'm still in your shoes. I know how it is to want someone everyone says you can't have."

"Good for you," I resumed putting on my makeup, ignoring Damon who was now standing behind me. I refused to make eye contact with him.

"Buried deep down you know you want to get back at Elena, make her feel as miserable as you've felt in the past. And you know just the way to do it," he boxed me in by placing his hands on the top of my dresser, his body impossibly too close to mine. He stared at me in the mirror, his lips next to my ear. "You know where to find me if you ever feel like getting some revenge of your own. Wear nothing but those heels when you come around."

In the next breath he was gone taking my oxygen with him.

The end.

**A/N: Will Bonnie take Damon up on his offer? And how genuine was that offer considering he's emotionally unstable, a little tipsy, and looking for revenge? I know there was a lot of Elena talk but well, there was no getting around it. Thanks for reading. **


	5. Bamon-Hunger Again

**A/N: I think I may need to combine these Bamon one-shots and actually create a multi-chapter fic out of them. Then again, starting yet another project is not what I need at the moment. So this is the companion piece to Crave—thank you oh so much for reviewing! And I will say I had typed, retyped, and typed again this particular one-shot because it wasn't going how I wanted it to go. The direction I've taken this surprised me, but it works. I hope you enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

My eyes burned with unshed tears as burning red embers floated lazily through the air, swirled all around. I stood in about three inches of ash, covered in soot. The smell of smoke was cloying and making it burdensome to breathe without pain firing in my chest.

"_Incendia_," I wheezed hoarsely and raised my hand, arm impossibly limp and fatigued that it barely lifted. The motion seemed half-assed but I had put my all into it.

The person—thing I was trying to destroy with fire was a charred body that still had a pulse of life. Blood began to drip from my nose in which I ignored in favor of shuffling closer to the Original Phantom. Yeah, an Original Phantom—a supernatural entity that fed off jealously that no one alive or undead had ever heard of.

At least not in my ragtag group of comrades.

This wasn't going to work. Fire wasn't going to stop this thing from carrying out its plan to unleash chaos into Mystic Falls and surrounding counties, but I had to try. I had already set half of the forest ablaze to corral it to one central location where my backup…I snorted were supposed to carry out the other half of this spell to end this war.

Magic, I realized could only win half the battle. What I needed was brute force, but my brute force got missing the second a dear little doppelganger had been near fatally injured.

I was facing this creature alone and probably dying as a result of pushing myself completely passed the bounds of safety. The Expression Shane taught me had given me a small advantage, but not nearly enough to single-handedly end this.

"It burns you doesn't it that they've left you here to die alone. Your greatest fear isn't it, Bonnie?" it goaded. The creature didn't have a mouth. Merely, suggested thoughts into your head. "That no matter what you do for them, how many times you sacrifice yourself it'll never be enough and they'll never care."

Inwardly I bristled at the creature's words but made sure that didn't reflect on my face. I made sure to keep my breathing even as not to give anything away, either.

The phantom was once again healing itself from the wounds I inflicted. It's blackened skin becoming a glowing shade of ice blue, a methane flame in the form of a humanoid with a glowing white center where I imagined its heart to be.

If I could just get closer, get to the heart I might have a chance.

"I'm an Original," it reminded me for the millionth time.

I was no novice in the area of Original beings. What I learned, even the oldest of the old could be killed. So could this thing.

"And Damon" it was saying, "he couldn't get Elena out of here fast enough. She's a vampire. She'll heal. Those burns weren't nearly as fatal as they appeared, but he'll always put her first. Just like his brother Stefan but it's not Stefan's attention you want. Is it?"

"_Vilissimus istum quia oboedisti voci meae clamavi ad te, et nunc venistis ad me!" _

That made the phantom break out into shrieking chuckles. I couldn't summon this thing's heart on my best day.

"You want Elena out of the picture so that you can be seen. Just once. I understand, Bonnie. Being a helper is a thankless job."

"_Do not engage it_. _It feeds off on your retaliation_," that's what Dr. Mako Mori, a professor of anthropology and lost cultures advised when I had gone to her for help about this thing that suddenly showed up one day.

I don't know who summoned it, why it was here, but it had to go before I ended up murdering people I had always cared a great deal about.

"It must rankle that your friends would have no qualms slicing your throat from ear to ear if it meant Elena could be safe. You're not nearly special enough to hold the attention of a boy with severe abandonment issues."

My eyes closed and I tried to drift off into my happy place. A technique taught to me by Dr. Mori in order to inoculate myself against attempts by the phantom to have me tumbling down a rabbit hole into blinding jealousy.

That happy place didn't consist of a meadow with a sparkling vampire waiting for me. No, I was in the boardinghouse library making books fly off shelves, and using magic for the first time in front of a much larger audience.

I guess I could have gone with graduating college and seeing myself running an empire out of a top floor office, but that just wasn't me.

"You'll never fully know what it feels like to be treasured, Bonnie. To feel hands touch you reverently…useless individuals aren't worth…you'll never be good enough…you'll never matter…no one cares when a little black girl dies…"

Words I had heard and even thought were hurled like daggers. The volume of the phantom's voice dimmed. I wasn't in that happy place anymore. I was tumbling without my consent to six days ago where I tasted the very fabric of jealousy and been on the receiving end of it…

...It was Saturday and I didn't have any plans. But I did take care of my laundry; washed Stefan's shirt I was loaned because my shirt had been destroyed. Long story.

Heading back to the boardinghouse was the last thing I wanted to do. I was purposely avoiding a certain someone and with good reason. I had been inert in taking Damon up on his offer for revenge despite it constantly being on my mind.

I packed a bag and figured I'd spend the night at my house, and visit with my dad and catch up.

An hour and fifteen minutes later I parked my car down the street from the Salvatore's manor of doom. In the off chance Damon was home I didn't want to tip him off to my arrival. My goal was to sneak in, drop the shirt off, and sneak back out hopefully going undetected.

One long walk down their ridiculous driveway, I finally made it to the front door, took a breath, and stepped inside.

The place was dimly lit and opulently furnished. I expected to be met with eerie silence. What I heard were two distinct yet raised voices.

My feet wouldn't move an inch farther than the edge of the rug in the foyer. I listened carefully to the argument taking place, blood rushing.

"We're not _good _for each other, Elena. At some point we have to stop the bullshit and realize that."

"I can't just walk away from someone I love."

"Stop loving me!" Damon wailed in a voice I never heard him use before. Distressed. Barely concealed fury.

"I can't!" Elena screeched just as petulantly and then…

Something was knocked over and I could pretty much visualize what was taking place between them now. When I heard the sound of fabric being ripped, that was it for me. I didn't need nor wanted to hear anymore.

The shirt fell out of my hands and landed soundlessly on the rug and I hardly noticed. Weights seemed to have grown attached to my legs, but I hastened my steps out of the boardinghouse, and down the drive way. I couldn't even remember if I had closed the door or not. It wouldn't matter anyways since Damon and Stefan never locked the stupid thing anyways; pretty much had an open house policy.

I begged my tear ducts not to do anything stupid. Crying right now would solve what exactly? And, most importantly, what the hell would I be crying for?

Damon wasn't my boyfriend and I barely considered him a crush. He was a guy who mildly tempted my feminine side to do things I otherwise would do for someone worth my actual time. Elena—for her many faults, was my best friend and was in love, so agonizingly in love with Damon she couldn't see straight. They were bonded, intertwined, unable to survive for long without the other. Their constant fights, break ups and make ups was proof of that. They were attracted to probably all the wrong things about each other, but seemingly couldn't function without the dysfunction.

Why would anyone want to plant themselves in the middle of that? Have any part of a vicious cycle with no foreseeable end? Why would I want Damon to one day wake up and realize his relationship with Elena was toxic, and reach the conclusion that there was someone out there able to love him in an unconditional and healthy way?

Why did I want that person to be me?

Sobs racked my chest as I hastily got into my car and sped away as if I just robbed a bank.

There was one thing I was certain of. I couldn't do this to myself. I had to let whatever part of me that liked Damon beyond a reasonable doubt—go. I needed to wake up and realize that so long as Elena Gilbert was alive in one form or another, he'd invariably love her and no one else. He would never be more than my number one frenemy and that was it. He would never see me beyond her. That was just the way things were shaping out to be.

Accept it and move on, Bonnie.

Moving on would have been much easier had I not been tracked down by one half of the duo I couldn't stomach seeing.

Elena had arrived at my dorm room a few days later with red, swollen eyes though her hair was impeccable for once falling in sleek waves that curled around her shoulders and breasts. She was letting it grow out again. She couldn't look more like her human counterpart; the Elena who had a conscience and gave a damn about her friends and family.

I had only opened the door a crack ready to feign being sick if I had to.

"Hey, can we talk?"

"Elena," I shook my head. "I'm very tired."

"_Please_, Bonnie."

Here she was on the verge of tears when her ex wanted me to exploit him. The irony was priceless.

That would have been the point where I placed a sympathetic smile on my face. Instead I remained mute and opened the door wider.

Elena swept inside and took a cursory look around. She hadn't actually stepped foot in my room since the beginning of spring semester that was rapidly drawing to a close.

Shutting the door, I folded my arms over my middle and made myself right at home on my bed. "What's going on?"

"I don't know what I'm doing," she clasped a hand over her mouth before running that same hand through her hair. "I tell myself to just stay away and I can…for a while. But I just end up right back where I _know_ I shouldn't be," Elena made an irritated sound in the back of her throat. "Maybe you wouldn't understand. You were with Jeremy."

My eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

Elena continued to pace back and forth as if she hadn't heard me, which more than likely she didn't. She had become exceedingly self-absorbed. A trait none of us in her close circle found charming.

She tossed one hand up in the air. "You never liked Damon," she ignored my question.

"You came over here to talk to me about Damon?"

She gave me a look that pretty much read: "What else would I come to talk to you about?"

"I made a mistake, Bonnie."

I was unfortunately aware of the mistake she made. My stomach roiled just thinking about it.

"Then whatever you did, stop doing it and you'll have nothing to be regretful about," was my sage advice.

She snorted patronizingly. "That's real easy for you to say. You've never been with anyone like Damon," she sighed and shook her head. "He's just…_passionate_ about_ everything_. And that passion is dangerous and unhealthy, but I…I can't stop wanting him. I know I shouldn't."

"So how can I not understand what you're going through? Simply because I dated someone who hasn't lived for over a century and a half, and behaves worse than a child when he doesn't get his way?"

"Let's be real…after getting with my brother you became severely uninteresting."

My blood pressure, which had slowly been on the incline, plummeted. Every single muscle in my body relaxed because I was done. Elena tensed and a very visible 'oh shit' look flashed on her face as she realized the major line she just crossed.

"Bonnie that didn't come out right. I didn't mean that."

"What did you mean because it sounded like you did?" Pause. "So you found me uninteresting because I dated _your _brother who's not a homicidal maniac that murders because he had a bad day?"

Elena winced. "Bon…I just…I only meant certain people can bring out the passion in us, and I didn't see any passion between you and Jeremy. Since you ended things with him, you're not the Bonnie you used to be. You just go through the motions. You have no idea how hard it is to stay away from temptation knowing that what's tempting you won't lead you to any place good."

Ha! If only she knew. Elena continued on with her diatribe.

"People can tell me until they're blue in the face to stay away from Damon. And I try but at the same time I miss him with a ferocity that it almost drives me to kill. It's like going through withdrawals," Elena laughed gloomily. "I feel so pathetic for wanting him so much."

"Because you're fucking are, Elena!" I exploded. She blinked and her jaw dropped. It really hadn't registered in my brain what I said. But I stood to my feet needing the height to make us equal. "You two feed off your obsessive vibes for one another that it makes you _blind_ to right and wrong. And that shit is so unhealthy. You've changed so much that I don't even recognize you anymore."

Elena was simply flabbergasted. "I can't believe you're saying this to me right now."

Now it was my turn to have selective hearing. It felt like I had received an infusion of power and I wanted to revel in it. Or that a pressure valve had been released and I could finally take a deep breath. I began to close the gap between us and smirked a little when Elena took a step back.

"The closer you got to Damon _when you were human, _the more you and he pushed everyone you used to care about out of the picture until all you two could see was each other. And that's how it's so _easy _for you to forgive him when he pulls the crap that he does. You never hold him accountable for anything. Just the same as _you're _never held accountable for the shit that happens as a result of knowing, or even being associated with you."

The sound of air rushing through my nostrils combined with my rapidly beating heart were the only sounds I could hear. Elena looked at me and I looked at Elena. We were quiet for a while before she started speaking, mouth set in a firm line.

"How long have you hated me?"

"What?"

"How long have you hated me? Was it the moment I was voted on the Miss Mystic Falls court, before that when you spotted Stefan first but it was me he pursued? Was it when I chased after Damon in the tomb and Grams died as a result of that? When your mom left to protect me from Mikael or after when she was turned? That I had a family and you didn't? When did you start to hate me, Bonnie?"

Seconds passed and I didn't respond. Then a strange thing happened. I started to laugh.

"This isn't funny. I'm being serious."

And because I knew she was only made me laugh harder. I cackled all the way to the door. I was done talking in circles with her about Damon, her issues, and self-centeredness.

My hand was on the doorknob and I faced the fuming doppelganger. "Take your pick of any one of those reasons, Elena, but none will come close to explaining the depth of feelings I'm having for you at this moment," I sighed. "You need to leave now."

"Bon…"

I held up a finger to stop her. "And one more thing…fuck you."

Definitely outraged, Elena's eyes for one moment blurred red before she pulled on her reins. She stormed out of my room and took years of pent up and dormant feelings of anger, hatred, resentment, and frustration with her.

The following morning the covers were snatched off my head and I was squinting up at a blurred version of Caroline Forbes. I could have sworn I locked my door, but a locked door couldn't exactly keep a determined vampire barred from entry.

"You and I need to talk," she thrust a takeout cup of coffee at me.

"What about?" I coughed, sat up, and pilfered the offering from her hand.

Caroline sat down on the edge of my bed. "Your fight with Elena."

My eyes rolled before I could control them.

"You two never fight and when you do, you easily patch things up."

"Caroline," I cut off her opening statement with a raised hand. "Friends fight and it's not the end of the world."

"But not you two," she repudiated. "You may strongly disagree with someone, but you don't yell or drop F bombs. Bonnie…she called me in tears, crying so much I could barely make heads or tails of what she was saying…"

"Look I don't want to get into it, all right. We all give Elena flack for being sired to Damon but have we stopped to consider we might be sired to her? She goes through a tough time and we bend over backwards to make it right. She messes up royally, and we come up with excuses for her behavior. We don't hold her accountable for anything and I'm just tired, Caroline," I shook my head forlornly. "I'm tired of holding my tongue and not expressing my true feelings and opinions. It just came out."

Caroline studied me, her fingernail digging into the coffee lid. "For months I feel like you've been drifting farther and farther away from us, and I'm scared. Scared that one day you'll be gone and I'll have no clue how you just…faded away. We hardly spend any time together, and things aren't how they used to be."

I averted my gaze to stare at my roommate's Imagine Dragons poster. "It's called growing up."

"It's more than growing up. Sometimes…sometimes I get the impression you don't _like _Elena. Not since her relationship with Damon took off."

I swallowed and said nothing to debunk that. Caroline could be eerily perceptive and if I tried to deny her observation she would call bullshit. I didn't believe anyone had picked up the nature of my true feelings regarding Damon, and probably chalked it up to the age old adage of me hating him for being an asshole. They could keep on believing that as I had no desire to change that hypothesis.

"And I know it's not jealousy," Caroline said taciturnly.

There was a definite pinch I elected to disregard. "It's not. I'm just going through some…personal changes."

Caroline dropped her hand on my duvet covered foot. "You know you can talk to me about anything, Bonnie. I don't know why you do that."

"Do what?"

"Try to handle everything on your own."

A wistful smile graced my face. "Because for a while…during a very pinnacle period of my life I had no one but myself. That's kind of stuck with me."

Caroline compressed her lips, "That's how it's always been. You never want to talk about anything that bothers you. You shut us out and then go over and above being there for us; and when we try to be there for you, it's like you can't be bothered."

Was that her perspective? Was that how I truly was? I knew I spent a lot of time alone, but it didn't always feel like my choosing. My problems were my problems, and that's how I compartmentalized things as not to inconvenience those I loved. But really, I just turned myself into an island, and no man was an island.

"We have drifted apart," I lifted my shoulders. "Everyone became so wrapped up in their own individual drama. You're always in between relationships." Caroline's brows furrowed. "And Elena…is always between brothers. When was I supposed to clue you guys in on whatever was happening with me?"

"But you should have at least made an effort, Bonnie."

"When? When everyone was always dependent on me to save the day while also screwing me over behind my back?"

Caroline's curls bounced against her shoulders as she shook her head. "You've been hurt, and we weren't always there for you because I guess we figured you could handle it. You've always been so resilient, Bonnie. But I'm sorry for dropping the ball," she sighed and flicked her gaze to the ceiling. "We all have suffered one loss or another, but that's no reason not to turn to your friends."

"Friends?"

"Yes, friends," Caroline said between gritted teeth. "If we start falling apart now what are we going to hold on to when the world does? Given our history things have been pretty bland, but I expect them to start sliding downhill very shortly."

Given our probability for being in the middle of some impending doom, Caroline was right.

She kicked off her shoes and snuggled into bed with me. It made me smile because the last time we shared a bed had been after she was kidnapped by Jules and Brady. Werewolves who wanted to break the sun and moon curse. Only there never was a sun and moon curse.

I did need my friends even if _I _didn't feel needed all the time. However, I could also do for a break from Elena for a while.

"So how long do you think your stalemate will last with a certain brunette?" Caroline fluttered her eyes at me.

Snorting, I took a sip from my coffee. "I don't know. I just need to establish an identity outside of the one that I've been holding on to for so long."

"And what identity might that be?"

"Bennett witch, sidekick, plot device."

"Well," Caroline slapped her hands on her legs. "If you're going to do an identity makeover, I should too. No more…meddling neurotic man prop," she extended her hand to me.

We shook on it.

* * *

Caroline had talked me into going out. It was open mike night at Ellipsis, the local bar not far from campus. I was trying to enjoy myself but the crowd was too rowdy, over half of them drunk college kids relieved that the end of the school year was upon us. I tried to get into the spirit and not think about anything that plagued me, but naturally that didn't work.

I've ignored every single last one of Elena's phone calls wanting to plead her case that she's not auditioning for being the world's most horrible friend. Yeah, okay. Caroline who felt caught in the middle didn't want to feel as if she were choosing sides. I told her not to stress herself out about it. This rift between Elena and I had nothing to do with her, and would mellow out eventually. Maybe.

There had been a time where it would have killed me to be so distant from Elena. I hated when we did fight, and stopped speaking to one another. Even if our forced silence never lasted more than an hour. This was new, shaky ground for us in that I found myself being okay with the idea of us growing farther and farther apart. The world certainly wasn't ending simply because we were living our lives separately for once.

It was liberating the more I thought about it. The less time I spent with her the less I had to hear about Damon, whom I'm hadn't seen in forever it felt like.

The sex dreams had tampered off. I mourned the loss for days and then considered it a good thing. Dreaming about someone you could only be with in your unconscious state was torture. If Damon were a celebrity I would have been way over him by now. Regrettably, he was a person I knew yet at the same time knew so little about, made it that much harder to let go.

I meandered my way through the crowd on the way to the restroom when a cold hand wrapped around my arm, and I was jerked—hard. I didn't even have time to scream, complain, or dig my heels in before I was thrust outside.

"What the hell?" I growled when the world stopped moving and I could see who the culprit was that booted me from the club.

Damon effing Salvatore.

He wasn't smiling, smirking, or grinning. In fact, he looked pissed. He glared at me and I glared right back wondering what the hell was his problem _this _week then reminded myself I didn't care.

"What do you want, Damon?"

"You and I," he waved a finger between us, "need to talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"Oh, but I got lots to say to you. Get in the car."

I blinked and realized he had double parked his Camaro. Refusing to cooperate, I folded my arms over my chest. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He took one giant step and stood less than three inches from me. My spine went completely straight and I did what I could not to breathe in his scent, not wanting to justify how much I missed it but yet couldn't place it.

"Unless you want me to embarrass you by saying you gave me an incurable venereal disease you _will _get your ass in that car."

I tipped my chin up and overlooked the flare of heat that speared right through me. Maybe I was a little sick in the head as well but I…I kind of missed this. Kind of missed Damon's baiting and threats.

But as protocol stated, I had to be stubborn for an additional fifteen seconds. I jutted my chin up even higher while he peered down his nose at me.

"The least you can do is say 'please' and until you do I'm not taking another step in any direction except back to the bar."

He grinned then, wolfishly. Predatorially. "_Please," _he hissed and growled at the same time.

A buzz zoomed over my skin at the sound and I bit the hell out of the inside of my cheek to get a freaking grip. _You don't like him, remember? _

"Make this quick. I have friends waiting on me and they'll start to worry."

Damon rolled his eyes and his mouth twitched because he wanted to say something scathing. I could practically see the words parachuting off his tongue.

He moved with calculated grace to his car yet he opened the passenger side door for me. I threw him an inquisitive gaze.

Two seconds later, Damon sat behind the wheel, fired up the engine, and stomped on the gas. The tires screeched along the pavement leaving a trail of billowy white smoke behind.

"Care to explain this," he blindly tossed something in my lap.

I stared down at the garment recognizing it immediately. It was my ripped and bloodied shirt Stefan had confiscated after our night of playing duck and cover.

"It's my shirt. So what?"

"So what?" he asked blithely and laughed. "Why did I find that in the trash at _my house_?"

"This is what your funky attitude is about? A ruined shirt?"

"No, this is about you and Stefan keeping secrets. I questioned him about it and he tried to play dumb which for him isn't that much of a stretch, but he was failing miserably," Damon took his eyes off the road to glower at me. "Now I want the truth from you, Bonnie. Did he attack you?"

"No."

"Don't lie!"

"I'm not lying. Stefan didn't attack me."

"Were you injured and came to Stefan for help?"

"Why do you even care what happened to me?" I asked a question of my own.

Damon's foot pressed harder on the gas. We were going way above the posted speed limit on this two lane road. I blindly reached for the seatbelt and strapped it on.

That made Damon smile dangerously. "Afraid I'm going to crash?"

"I'm afraid you're being an unnecessary prick for no reason."

He made an indecipherable sound in the back of his throat. "I just don't understand why it's so difficult for you and Stefan to just tell the truth. If he didn't attack you then what the fuck happened?"

"And _again," _I emphasized, "why is it so important for you to know? I'm here. I'm fine and that's all you need to be concerned with."

"You think I'm an idiot? You think I don't know you were at the house the other day when Elena was there?"

My heart almost seized yet I willed it to keep beating.

"Damon, those two events are not mutually exclusive."

"They aren't?"

"No, they're not."

"You want to know my theory?" he began more calmly. "I think something happened and you came to the house looking for me, but my saintly baby brother was there and you decided he was the better course to take when it came to extracting revenge. You left his shirt right in front of the door. Don't bother denying it because it smelled exactly how you smell now. Had you come by to plant it and send a message?"

I listened to his spiel and laughed. "You are insane if you think I would use Stefan like that. Or even you for that matter. Unlike someone we both know, I actually do have standards when it comes to who gets to sleep in my bed."

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

Impulsively, Damon turned off the headlights and accelerated the car urging it to go faster, nearly a hundred miles an hour.

My eyes grew big and my fingernails dug into the leather seat. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Playing a game."

"I don't want to play a game with you. I want you to stop this car!"

"Not gonna happen until you start coughing up some answers. Need any more incentive," he abruptly swerved to the other side of the street.

"Ohmygod! Damon…fuck get back on the right side of the road!"

"Tell me what I want to know."

My heart was going so fast it could have been mistaken for a hummingbird. I ran through spells that would allow me to mentally control the car, but my fear of a head-on collision gave me an unprecedented case of stage fright.

"I didn't fuck your brother if that's what you're thinking."

"Keep going."

"The reason I had blood on my shirt, you asshole is because we were trying to stop your stupid bastard of a friend Enzo."

"Enzo?" Damon questioned clearly surprised by hearing his name.

"Yes, Enzo," I spat nastily.

Enzo had been Damon's wingman the night he came to my room. He cornered me at the Bitter Ball, and tried to intimidate me to do Damon's bidding. But when he ended up on the floor, bleeding from the gums, nose, and eyes he learned very quickly I couldn't be easily persuaded by the usual method of bodily violence.

"What did Enzo want with Stefan?"

"Can you please get back in the right lane?" I begged.

"No! What did Enzo want with Stefan?"

I licked my suddenly dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "He thought Stefan killed some chick he knew way back in the sixties who lived in Mystic Falls for a while. I happened to be walking back to my car after eating at The Grill when I heard them arguing in the square. Enzo threw a punch, Stefan retaliated. It turned messy. I got in the way."

Due to the darkness of the road and the lack of moonlight I couldn't make out Damon's features, but I figured he probably looked conflicted.

"And then what happened?"

"Enzo promised to rip Stefan apart like Stefan allegedly did to his girlfriend or whatever, but I incapacitated him giving Stefan and I a chance to get away. Stefan didn't kill his girlfriend. He left Mystic Falls in 1953 and didn't return until 2009. But you know that don't you?"

Damon drifted back to the appropriate lane but his lead foot hadn't eased off the gas, nor had he turned on the headlights. Then it occurred to me he didn't need headlights since vampires were nightly creatures, and he could see just as well in the dark as he could in the light.

Still, none of it eased the tension that twisted every single last one of my muscles into knots.

Damon finally began to decelerate. "Yeah," he muttered quietly and then stopped the car abruptly.

I didn't waste a second scrambling for freedom, practically falling out of the Camaro, greedily breathing in gulps of fresh air. Jitters took over and I wrung my hands and struggled with not desiccating Damon where he stood.

He got out of the car and flashed to my side but I turned and slapped the hell out of him.

"You don't deserve a brother like Stefan. He was willing to take the fall for you, I know he was."

Damon grabbed me and the next thing I knew, my back made contact with the hood of his vehicle. "There you go," he tsked, "judging a situation at face value again."

"And there you go pretending that your hands are clean. I may not know the whole story, but I'm sure it's not much of a leap to assume you killed Enzo's girlfriend. That would have happened right after you escaped being an Augustine experiment and turned off your humanity. Yeah, Elena filled me in."

He gritted his teeth but then hunched a shoulder. "So what if I did? She's dead. I can't bring her back."

"How does it feel to not care about anything, Damon?"

"It feels great!"

"You're a cold, heartless jackass."

"And you're a judgmental bitch."

Yeah, it was about time I did that special thing I did which brought every vampire in the near vicinity down to its knees.

Damon's eyes rolled into the back of his head, but he didn't collapse like I expected as I made mincemeat of the blood vessels in his brain. In fact, he did something I didn't think he'd ever do.

He pressed his mouth to mine shocking me out of my concentration.

This was not what I wanted to feel right now. I didn't want him to kiss me at the height of some petty argument. I didn't want our first kiss to be born out of the heat of the moment because we were simply too angry to be adult and talk about something, but skip right to the physical because that's what he did with Elena.

But…shit…it felt good. A-m-a-z-i-n-g to feel his lips on mine, tongue burrowed in my mouth, hard body pressed shamelessly on me. Our hands worked together, lips fused as we both worked his leather jacket off. His shirt followed shortly after. We broke apart momentarily.

I lewdly ogled his chest while viciously biting down into my lower lip.

Damon cradled my face and tilted my head back, panting. "You're hungry for me, aren't you?"

I did nothing but whimper.

His fingers slid under the hem of my shirt, and began to pull the material up leaving goose bumps in the wake of his touch. I lifted my arms and didn't so much as flinch once the cold air struck my skin. Every breath I took made my tits swell in my bra and Damon was making it no secret he was very much enjoying the view.

"Take it off," he ordered huskily.

Blindly I reached under me and unhooked my bra. The straps loosened and fell down, but Damon hooked his pointer finger between the cups and pulled it free from my body. My nipples immediately puckered and he didn't waste a second fondling one before devouring the other with his mouth.

I sunk my fingers into his hair. I had always been curious if it was as soft as it looked, and actually it was softer than fur.

Loud, sucking noises diverted my attention and my back arched as Damon pulled more of my breast into his mouth while mercilessly teasing my other nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

"Mmm…" I moaned shamelessly.

"You like that?"

Was Pluto kicked out of the solar system? Hell yes I liked it!

Damon's hands disappeared and then hooked under my knees, jerked me closer, to which he wrapped my legs around his hips.

"Do you want me to stop, Bonnie?"

"Mmmm," being coherent was really hard at the moment.

Our mouths became fused together and we kissed each other hungrily once more. And naturally it had to be at that time I started hearing unwanted voices in my head.

"_He consumes you."_

"_His passion is addicting but dangerous and yet you can't help but give in. Let go and surrender everything to him."_

"_You wouldn't understand, Bonnie. You were with Jeremy."_

"_When he loves, he loves _too_ hard."_

But that was exactly what I wanted because I never had that. Grams loved me but her love was what a grandmother gave to her grandchild, and my father…mother...love had been implied and there in theory. I didn't even have Jeremy's love but I wanted this. I wanted Damon's love. I wanted to drown and not be resuscitated. For once I wanted to be the lone object standing at the end of someone's tunnel vision.

Once that revelation coldcocked me, I needed a breath so I turned my head to the side. Damon took advantage and licked, not kissed a path of pure fire from the base of my neck to the sensitive shell of my ear.

Not missing a beat we resumed our harried lip-lock that was slightly disrupted by the sound of Damon's zipper going down.

And my next thought was: would he ever want me the same way or was he repeating old habits because Elena rejected him again?

That was ice water being thrown on my flushed face.

I flattened my hands on his chest and with the help of my magic, shoved Damon off of me. He stumbled away.

"Don't do this," I rolled my head back and forth on the hood of the car. "Don't do this to me," I sat up then.

We needed to get out of the middle of the road. I needed to get as far away from him as possible because things were just too volatile.

I crossed my arms over my bare chest. "I don't want you to kiss me as a way of shutting up your own conscience. Or to simply shut me up. And I damn sure don't want you to be with me while you're in love with someone else. I want it to mean something, Damon."

He moved forward, "Bonnie…"

I slid off the hood, picked up my shirt and dressed with fumbling hands. After I was clothed, I walked to the passenger side. "Just drive me home."

Damon stood defiantly in front of his car, hands poised on his hips. I didn't need to look at his face to know he was pissed, but if things had continued, we just would have made a mistake.

Sullenly he dressed and slammed the door harshly after climbing behind the wheel.

We didn't speak another word to each other the entire drive back to campus. Said nothing as he stopped in front of my dorm and I quickly exited, putting more space between us.

I thought I heard Damon whisper, "I'm sorry," the minute my foot touched the pavement, but that may have been my imagination.

Nonetheless, I hightailed it to my room where I promptly locked myself inside and cried myself to sleep.

* * *

My fights with Elena and Damon should have been the first clue that I wasn't in Kansas anymore on top of there being something rotten in the state of Denmark. Could I blame my eruption at Elena entirely on the phantom that didn't appear to be getting any weaker no matter the number of spells I hurled at its head? Could I blame it for me almost going all the way with Damon on the hood of his car because he thought I was fooling around with Stefan? Was the aforementioned events scheduled to happen regardless of this evil spirit showing up?

Things were very much muddled.

Damon wasn't Stefan so I knew not to expect any grandiose declarations of apology coming from him, nor did I want one.

It just would have been awkward.

My feelings, unfortunately, hadn't budged. How long were these unrequited feelings supposed to last?

I knew now what kissing Damon felt like and his body; so some of the mystique had been taken away. Yet, my heart, my turncoat of a heart didn't want to move on to greener pastures.

But Damon was gone now. Abandoned the plan to rush Elena to safety after her attempt of unsuccessfully snapping the phantom's neck. It had been immaterial at the time of which she didn't know. What made it stronger were its targets responses to its taunting. Solidifying its mass until it was a full grown entity, which was exactly what Dr. Mori advised it needed to be in order to defeat it.

My heart was slowing down. Motor skills weren't the best, and yet I couldn't give up. Couldn't give in to the impulse to spew everything that's bothered me, ever. And yet the thought of releasing my last will and testament kind of gave me hope.

Hope that life doesn't have to end at eighteen. In fact, it could actually start.

TBC…

**A/N: I really thought I could finish the whole Covet series with this one-shot but I can't, lol. If you haven't read the ghostwritten books the Original Phantom is from that. I haven't come across a story that's used that mythology outside of book fanfiction. So hey, feel like I'm breaking new ground, probably not but let me live in my fantasy. I'd love to hear what you guys thought of this. Don't be shy. Until next time…**


	6. Bamon-Feast of All Truth

**A/N: Because you guys were SO amazing in providing feedback it inspired my muse to not take months to churn out the follow up to Hunger Again. Here is the last installment in the Covet series. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me and enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters (apart from my OC) belong to LJ Smith/CW Network. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

My mouth opened to talk. I didn't have a clear idea on what I was going to say, what I was going to purge and it might only total up to being nonsensical gibberish, but I was going to finally say the things I've held back in saying since I learned about the existence of the supernatural.

"I—"

A vowel. I could only get a vowel out before something cold and wet was smothered over my nose and mouth. An arm that felt more like a steel I-beam wrapped around my torso and I was hauled to my feet.

It was a cloth that had been placed over my mouth soaked in water. And the arm, well the armed belonged to Damon. I'd recognize that leather sleeve anywhere.

For a second confusion fuddled my oxygen deprived mind because…he wasn't supposed to come back for me. He was still supposed to be with Elena and I was supposed to defeat this thing on my own. Why was Damon changing the script? Why had he entered at the exact moment I decided to have hope?

"We need to go," he hissed in my ear.

The urgency in his voice was unmistakable, but the stubborn part of me was disturbed at the thought of tucking tail between my legs and running. This wasn't going to be Killing Klaus all over again. This wouldn't evolve into a merry-go-round of coming up with strategy after strategy to kill the latest monster only for things to fall apart.

I shook my head since talking was problematic.

"Now isn't the time to argue with me, Bonnie. Look around you!"

It wasn't until then I noticed the fires I started were now raging completely out of control. Thick, black plumes of smoke billowed toward the indigo sky. Red-hot orange flames licked along the dry pine needle infested ground, feeding its destructive appetite. It hadn't even registered on my radar my clothes were stuck to me due to sweat.

We were completely surrounded by fire and not the kind of ring of fire you could easily step over. No, the flames rose several feet high creating an impenetrable wall.

If things were this dire how had Damon gotten to me?

The Original Phantom was all but forgotten as Damon began pulling me backwards.

I twisted my neck to look at Damon but he had his gaze focused frostily on the phantom. It had stopped suggesting foul things in my ear, and was probably reading Damon a laundry list of issues he had with everyone he's ever come across or met as we eased farther and farther away from it.

While they were busy with one another I lent my concentration to the fire. The words didn't need to be spoken orally for my spells to be effective, though it didn't hurt. Stretching out my arm, I tried to dim the flames as if turning down the heat on a stove.

A path began to unfurl where I could see the parts of the forest the flames had yet to devour. Damon picked me up bridal style, took one step, and he and I were flying, moving so quickly everything was a blur.

I didn't want to get too happy about being free. There was still a significant amount of burning happening all around us. And if the flames didn't kill me, the heat and smoke would do its part.

We were almost clear of the danger zone when I spotted, somehow, out of my peripheral an old fuel tank.

Blanching, my stomach bottomed out and as soon as Damon cleared it, the fuel tank ignited and exploded.

"Fuck!" Damon yelled while I screamed.

We were thrown.

It felt like I had been physically plucked out of Damon's arms and flung like a pitcher throwing a baseball toward home plate.

My arms and legs flailed in the air and I hit a tree at a bone crunching velocity; my ribs taking the brunt of the force.

The wind was knocked clear out of me. I was jerked at an awkward angle once my body made impact and I fell without brakes or grace thus bruising my hip the second I landed with a thud.

My teeth cut into my tongue and blood immediately filled my mouth. A tooth even felt like it cracked along with several of my ribs.

I couldn't move, didn't even try because I was scared to find out if I was paralyzed.

The fire was drawing closer. The crack, pop, and sizzle of it growing louder gave away its coordinates that I was in its path of consumption.

With my nose and mouth no longer covered, my lungs and trachea were at the total mercy of toxic smoke.

"Bonnie?"

"Damon?" I breathed in relief. He wasn't dead but I still couldn't move.

"Give me your hand."

"I can't move."

Silence followed and then rough hands were lifting me and I was thrown over Damon's shoulder. I cried out as stinging and brutal pain shot throw me like an arrow.

Damon was on the move again only this time he was climbing.

Nausea and vertigo attacked my stomach and head. Everything whirled, nothing wanted to stay still, and as much as I wanted to pass out, I held on to my lucidity with everything I had.

Embarrassingly a line of drool began to leak out of the side of my mouth. Thrown over Damon's shoulder as I was, and plus not really having the strength to lift my arms, I just let it be. This was about survival. Not looking cute or presentable.

Damon moved dexterously and then hopped carefully from tree to tree until the edge of the forest met city grounds.

If he had been a simple human he wouldn't have been able to do any of this. Would have been just as affected by the smoke and flames like me. I may have been supernatural but my body was mortal. And this would be one of the rare times I was especially glad to know an immortal with superhuman strength that could carry me like a sack of potatoes and climb trees without breaking stride or a sweat.

My rescuer stopped moving and I was being lowered to a branch just thick enough for our feet to fit and nothing else.

"I'm going to have to jump down," Damon explained.

Too exhausted to inform him I was terrified of heights, Damon turned me to face him. I kept my gaze on his chin because if I looked him in the eye I might start to freak out. He wrapped both arms around me and I shut my eyes, laid my head on his chest, trusting him to get us down without incident.

He didn't do a countdown, merely leapt off the branch and we sailed to the earth at such a frightening speed I couldn't muster up a single appropriate scream. It was like diving, but the rush of air made me feel like I was falling in reverse.

Thankful the ride down was a quick one, Damon landed and then he was ushering us both across the forest parking lot toward his Camaro.

The last time I rode in that car…things had been unerringly tense between us, but I couldn't be more relieved to see it I could kiss it.

Damon propped me up against it and then opened the trunk. He extracted a bottle of water, twisted off the cap and handed it to me.

I grabbed it through my arm moved in slow motion and guzzled the contents that almost instantaneously came back up. Swallowed too much too fast. My throat had closed in on itself in a last ditch effort of self-preservation.

I coughed violently and almost vomited, but swallowed and hacked some more; my throat sorer than when I had strep throat back in elementary school.

"Go easy on that," Damon griped.

I waited for my breathing to slow before attempting to take another sip.

The water was refreshingly cool going down, flushing away inhaled particles of soot and ash. Tipping my head back, I poured the water over my face and promptly moped it with the sleeve of my cardigan probably smearing it once more with dirt and debris.

When I felt composed enough I finally permitted myself to look at Damon. He was just as dirty as I was. Milk-white skin barely visible through slashes of soot, and yet…he was still hotter than any Giorgio Armani model.

"Why did you come back?" I wheezed.

"Not now. We need to go."

"Damon…"

"Bonnie, not now!" he roared and then flashed to his side of the car. I turned to face him and he pointedly stared at the passenger side.

I climbed in and barely had the door closed before Damon peeled off from the scene of the crime.

Who knows how many square miles of forest I destroyed. How much of the wildlife I accidentally killed or made homeless. My duty was to balance nature and there I stood burning it to a crisp. I could think about that later.

Being in an enclosed space with Damon heightened my senses despite everything being severely dulled by my one-sided duel with the phantom. The throbbing pain ricocheting between my ribs and hip had taken a backseat to the fact that if I stretched my fingers across the leather seat, they would be touching Damon.

But as close as we were physically—mentally there was a chasm between us filled with junk we didn't have enough time or manpower to sift through. We weren't officially speaking, which was nothing new because that wasn't our dynamic; but now having the knowledge of what his lips tasted like something should have been different.

Yet I couldn't help but think how I got here. How had my feelings for him developed.

From what I could recall it wasn't a single event that upped my awareness about Damon. He didn't look at me in a particular way, never said my name with a hint of softness, never touched me. Or maybe my feelings were like a seed that had been planted and each time Damon saved my life, or treated me like _he _was a human being caused them to grow. A slow and delicate process.

At the moment it didn't matter because my feelings where there, disjointed as they were because they had no outlet other than bouncing around in my head and clouding my heart.

A sharp pain lanced through me and I groaned. Doubled over, holding my side.

Damon's head whipped in my direction. "You're hurt."

"Happens when your body is propelled into a tree at a high speed."

He didn't even hesitate. Lifted one hand off the steering wheel and bit into his wrist. Damon thrust it out to me.

Twice my life had been extended via vampire blood. Once by Stefan the second time by Damon. I could have a philosophical debate on the cons of drinking Damon's blood, but the blistering pain made my witch pragmatism obsolete.

Gently cupping a hand around his wrist, I drew it closer to my lips and then slanted my mouth over the self-inflicted wound.

The first sensation to hit once his blood touched the back of my throat—revulsion. Blood tasted like blood regardless of the source. Metallic, like swabbing down your tongue with nails. After the instinctual need to spit it out passed, the blood coursed down my esophagus and filled my belly. Warmth followed. Unmitigated warmth. I could taste individual seasons in Damon's blood.

First came winter because it was slightly cold, then spring because it opened up my senses, painting everything in high definition. Summer was next in that each of my extremities grew hotter, and ended with fall because it made me shiver and want to cuddle into my favorite knit sweater. I could taste magic, life, death, renewal in his blood.

Damon tugged his wrist free and my cheeks flushed because I overstayed my welcome at his fount.

"Greedy little thing…" I heard him whisper.

Wiping the corners of my mouth, I settled against the leather seat as lethargy began to knead my shoulders. I imagined Damon's blood cells interacting with mine, repairing the damage to tissue and bone. Traveling to places unseen and untouched like a prescribed medication.

I tingled everywhere. Felt like I could make this car float off the road if I concentrated hard enough.

My heart rate increased—palpitated and its chaotic rhythm certainly wasn't eased as I observed Damon while he drove.

I wanted to know what he was thinking. He wasn't railing. Other than telling me to drop my questions, hadn't so much as raised his voice at me. Or got on my case for once again overgrowing my britches and thinking I was a literal manifestation of Wonder Woman.

I wanted to know what the phantom whispered in his ear. I wanted to know his shoe size; if he ate cookies in bed, or ate cookies at all. If he liked sports. When it boiled down it, all I really knew about Damon was his preference for bourbon, brunettes, and blood. Oh, and that _Call of the Wild_ was his favorite book.

My eyes dipped to his nose and how it was slightly turned up at the tip, and lower still they traveled and ogled his mouth remembering how it felt, what it did.

"What?" he barked.

I sat up straighter and flushed again not cognizant I had been staring at him the whole time. "Nothing," I decided that focusing on the road would be best.

We flew by a highway sign that read Whitmore was just five miles away. I thought we would go back to his place if that's where everyone else had reconvened, but guess not. Or maybe he was just dumping me off, isolating me as it's been done so often once one of our ingenious missions failed.

"You're taking me back to campus?" I said just to have something to say. The strained silence was getting to me.

"Just long enough for you to pack a bag."

I blinked. "Pack a bag for what?"

"I just need you to listen, not ask questions, and to trust me, Bonnie."

"Where is everyone else?"

"Doing what I told them to do. Hopefully."

A question mark formed over my head. "What aren't you telling me, Damon? There was another plan to the plan?"

"Something like that," he evaded and took the exit to Whitmore University and then minutes later parked right outside of my residential building. "Hurry up and bring _only _what you need."

"What am I packing for and how long am I going to be gone?"

Damon slowly turned his head to me and the movement reminded me of an owl. A little creepy. "You're already breaking my rules and we haven't even left this county yet."

I huffed, "I deserve to know where I'm being whisked off to, and how long I'm going to be away. I have finals coming up."

"You want to live long enough to take those finals then I suggest you do what I say starting now. You have ten minutes and if I have to get out of this car to come get you…it _won't_ be pretty and I _promise_ you it'll be messy."

He said that a little too seductively for it to be taken as the threat Damon intended it to be.

Nonetheless, I climbed out of his car and rushed off to my room. Dodging those who called my name. Moving too fast to prevent anyone from getting a good look at me. I reached my room in record time.

Unlocking the door and flicking on the light, I was completely and wholly unprepared for the sight in front of me.

Brooke, my roommate who was into Avatar and electro-pop was on her hands and knees. A rail thin guy was poised behind her, hands on her hips stopped in mid-stroke. Brooke's moans of ecstasy were cut off abruptly and her light brown eyes widened in horror when she saw me.

"Shit, I'm sorry!" I slapped a hand over my eyes and tried to back blindly out of the room, and crashed into the door, closing it accidentally.

Brooke shrieked, her fuck buddy laughed.

"You're cute," he complimented in a surprisingly deep voice. "You can join if you want. Or watch. I don't mind."

"Jake!" Brooke screeched.

I heard rustling but didn't dare look to see what they were doing. Getting off the floor to search for something to cover up, I hoped.

Carefully peeking between my fingers, Brooke and guest had moved to her bed and were covered up. I pushed away from the door putting in a supreme effort to keep my eyes far, far away from them.

"Jesus, Bonnie what happened to you?" Brooke asked.

"A couple of friends got together and we went…mudding," I lied off the top of my head as I grabbed a duffel bag and started filling it with a week's worth of clothing.

Brooke nosed around for gossip, "Taking another trip back to Mystic Falls?"

"Something like that," I had no clue where I was actually going. "If…um…if Alexys comes by looking to study would you tell her I'll call her?"

"Yeah."

My toiletry items were the last things I packed, and tossed up my hand to bid my roommate and her guest a goodbye.

Moments later, I threw the bag in the back of Damon's car and flung my body in the passenger seat.

"Five seconds more and I would have been on a search and destroy mission," he remarked and stomped on the gas.

"So are you finally going to tell me where we're going?"

"Richmond," was his monosyllabic response.

* * *

Two hours later, several denied requests to use his cell phone to check in with Caroline and my dad, Damon pulled his Caramo into a parking garage located beneath an apartment complex in downtown Richmond. He, of course, remained annoyingly tight-lipped on why we were leaving the Mystic Falls/Whitmore area in its entirety and exactly why we were traveling to the capital alone.

Will the others be joining us so we can regroup? Silence.

How long are we staying? Silence.

Am I being dropped off and you're going somewhere else? Silence.

Did you know hair is growing out of your earlobe? (Not true) Silence.

Every last one of my questions made his hand tighten just that much harder on the steering wheel, but Damon never told me to shut up.

Something about this evacuation and subsequent discretion made me feel as if I were entering a witness protection program of sorts. If that were the case, changing location, I doubt would deter the phantom from tracking us down.

But I had run out of questions and was tired of hearing the sound of my voice. I followed behind Damon as we took a service elevator from the garage to the penthouse level.

The hydraulic doors whooshed open and we walked down a generic looking hallway that was the antithesis of high class. We stopped in front of the last unit, and Damon pounded his fist on the door.

A minute later it was opened, just a crack and I could only see an eyeball.

"It's me," Damon announced.

"Damon Salvatore?" the person whispered.

"Who else?"

The door flew open and standing in the threshold was not what I was expecting.

I was staring at a younger version of Elvira. Ghost white skin that couldn't possibly be that alabaster nearly blinded me. The woman's hair was Goth black and so was her makeup and style of dress: short vinyl skirt, torn fishnet stockings, a cute pair of red Doc Martens, a red and black plaid corset, and a hundred silver cross necklaces decorated her throat.

Her eyes were ash-gray and popped thanks to a liberal amount of black liner and shadow. Her mouth was painted blood red.

I half expected to see fangs but when she smiled beguilingly at Damon, she had a nice set of straight white teeth. They were big teeth, but nice teeth, nonetheless.

"Dee," the woman purred.

My brows lifted to my hairline and I watched the exchange between them. The woman looked ready and prepared to offer any kind of hospitality Damon would require while he appeared to smolder right back at her.

I sighed heavily and cleared my throat.

She finally stopped her eye-fucking to lightly glower at me. Goth girl didn't look too thrilled Damon brought company of the female variety. Yet she fixed a pleasant enough smile on her face.

"Bonnie, this is Vixen," he introduced us.

Damon had to be kidding.

"Nice to meet you," I remembered my manners.

Vixen nodded, "Likewise," she intoned. Her brow furrowed as she gave me a once over, nose scrunching. "What happened to the two of you?"

"Long story," Damon said and then motioned with his head for her to let us in.

Vixen hesitated but stepped aside finally allowing us entrance into her apartment.

It was a loft, really. Open floor plan, large windows that offered a view of the medical center. A drafting table sat to the far back of the living room, kitchen with a breakfast bar stood to the right. A short hallway past the living room I assumed led to the bedrooms.

"Please," Vixen rasped, "make yourself at home."

I questionably looked at Damon. He pulled Vixen aside and she didn't waste a second wrapping her thin arms over his shoulders. I couldn't hear what they were whispering about, but I certainly wasn't going to snoop through another person's home to pass the time.

So I headed over to the windows, marked things about the landscape into memory in case I needed an escape route.

The jingle of keys was the next sound I heard and when I glanced over my shoulder, Vixen was grabbing her jacket and purse and headed for the door.

I didn't start my next round of questions until she was long gone. Had Damon compelled her to give up her apartment so we could squat here?

"We have this place to ourselves for the time being. The bedrooms are to the back. I'm taking the one on the left," Damon disappeared.

You know? It would be wonderful if he would just tell me what the hell was going on.

* * *

I settled into the smaller of the two bedrooms, opting to live out of my duffel rather than put things away. The room was simple. Offered a bed, lamp, desk, and a flat screen television perched atop of a four-drawer bureau that was empty.

It didn't have a bathroom leaving me little option but to use the communal one at the other end of the hallway. I showered, brushed my teeth, and slid into a pair of gray sweat pants and an oversized tee. The second I was done grooming, I ventured into the living room.

Damon stood in front of the bank of windows sipping from a blood bag. He had freshened up as well.

"All right, you gotta give me some answers, Damon. _What _are we doing here?"

He scoffed. "Isn't it obvious, judgey?"

"No, it's not obvious. We can't run from this thing. We need to go back to Mystic Falls and figure out another way to get rid of that phantom. It's not going to leave us alone simply because we changed location."

Damon pivoted and faced me. "We are dealing with it."

"The others aren't equipped to handle that thing on their own. They _need _me, Damon. They need us."

"Bonnie," and the way he said my name gave me pause. Like he was very, very tired. "What do you remember about the island?"

My brow crumpled and my mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "What does the island have to do with anything?"

"There _is _no Original Phantom, Bonnie."

"What? What are you…of course there is! You've seen it! We've all seen it!"

Damon shook his head, tousling his raven black hair. "It's an illusion. An illusionary curse that affects witches who practice Expression."

I shook my head back and forth and chuckled darkly. "I think I would know if I were under a curse, Damon."

"Would you?" one dark eyebrow lifted in challenge.

"You're being serious?"

"Deathly."

I moved over to the couch on wobbly legs and buried my face in my hands. This wasn't making sense. Adding up. If I were cursed, under a curse then how could I break it? If it created illusions then has my life since the island been one big massive Inception-like mind fuck? Did it mean I never got into that argument with Elena? Never spent time with Caroline being a normal teenager? Did it mean Damon and I never made out on the hood of his car—correction almost had sex on the hood of his car?

I peered at him with watery eyes and he could read the question there. "Oh, that night happened," his face darkened.

Relief filled me.

"So…are you trying to tell me that since the island I've been under this curse?"

Damon's lips pulled down at the corners. "More or less but it wasn't activated until recently."

"What activated it?"

"Me."

My jaw dropped open. "Come again?"

Damon sighed, rubbed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He bit into his bottom lip and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. That was probably the most fidgeting I've ever seen him do.

"How did _you_ activate this curse, Damon?" my voice lowered in octave.

"When _my_ feelings for you changed," he reluctantly divulged.

Dumbfounded, completely and totally dumbfounded. I heard Damon loud and clear but there was static, a kind of white noise interference that blocked his words from creating imagery in my mind. To say I was floored at the prospect of him having feelings—well of course I knew he had feelings, but to have feelings geared toward me was an understatement.

What had they changed from and most importantly what did they change into?

Damon sat the empty blood bag down on the windowsill. "Believe it or not…it's supposed to be an unbinding spell of some sort. I guess it was Shane's last gift to you and the middle finger to me in the event I killed him. Something happened on that island and screwed things up and it unleashed a curse instead."

My leg started bouncing. "This isn't making sense."

"I know it's not and I wish I could explain it better."

"So this thing wasn't trying to kill us? It was trying to make me do what?"

Damon braced his hands on his hips. "Face yourself…face your feelings on everything that's ever bothered you. Create a new Bonnie. I don't know. That phantom…the one you set an entire wooded area on fire trying to destroy…was only a manifestation of your deepest, darkest fears, insecurities, and feelings, Bonnie."

My brows knitted together, "H-how, how do you know this?"

"Let's just say I took a trip to good ole Professor Shane's office before the university boxed up his crap and tossed it. Found out some useful information he kept from you that I figured might come in handy one day. I meant to pass it along. But well, life got in the way," he snorted.

Life meaning Elena had chosen him, and whatever information he discovered in Shane's things was left by the wayside.

"If what you're telling me is true…then I imagined Elena getting hurt tonight? No one else was in on the 'plan' to trap the phantom and destroy it?"

Damon shook his head from side to side and my stomach bottomed out. I just couldn't believe it.

"Do you even recall meeting with anyone about this phantom?" he queried.

"I…" my thoughts trailed off and I thought. No, I hadn't actually spoken to anyone. But Dr. Mori…, I gawked at Damon. "Dr. Mori isn't a college professor, is she? She's a witch?"

"She's both. I hired her," he widened his eyes, "after I saw signs the curse had been activated. I tried to deny it but…" he shrugged. "Like I said, Bonnie, it was all part of an illusion."

"And everyone else…they knew what was happening?"

Damon nodded. "Trust me, they weren't happy with staying out of it and letting me handle things."

My head was spinning. "So answer yes or no on what's real." Pause. "My fight with Elena?"

"Yes."

"Stopping the fight between Stefan and Enzo?"

"Yeah."

"That night at the club where you confronted me?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Us kissing and doing other things that led me to pushing you away because what we were doing was wrong?"

"Yes," he bit out through clenched teeth.

A large, dry lump formed in my throat making it hard to swallow. I was afraid to ask this but I needed to know. "What…what feelings do you have for me?"

Uncertainly flashed on Damon's veneer. "That I'm still trying to figure out myself," he walked over to the opposing couch and sat down. A coffee table and his reluctance to be honest with me and deal with his emotions stood between us.

I couldn't even say I was beginning to feel hope. From Damon's posture and the grim set to his mouth he didn't look overjoyed to have feelings for me that went beyond…whatever a vampire and witch who conspired together from time-to-time should have for one another.

It would do my ego some good if he didn't appear to be on his way to his execution.

Funnily enough this had to be surreal for Damon. He's used to being the odd man out, and to find himself the center of a love triangle caught between the girl he loved and the girl he didn't really like, how was he to navigate through those choppy waters without offending one and losing the other?

I didn't want to be in his shoes and I didn't want to be in mine, yet here we were.

"Why did you kiss me?" I whispered.

"It's simple…I wanted to."

I chortled. It's simple? "Nothing about this is simple."

"You think I don't know that?" Damon muttered irritably. "It's bad enough the woman I've been in love with for the last two years could only be with me once she turned, and subsequently ended up being _sired_ to me. And now…this same woman's best friend…" he stopped speaking.

"What?" I said sharply. "You think I caught feelings for you to ruin your life, Damon?"

"No," he shook his head, and pinned me to the spot with those burning glacial eyes of his. "Why was it so easy for you?" Damon looked genuinely confused. "That's what I can't figure out. I can brag about women throwing themselves at me, and yeah I can fuck whoever I want, but that's where my luck begins and ends. Why is it the girl who saw me beyond my brother…is the same girl who loves my ex just as fiercely as I do?"

Discomfort made my chest tighten and to alleviate the ache I nibbled my lip. "If you still love Elena so fiercely then what are you conflicted about? You've made your choice."

Damon's head cocked to the side. "I have?"

"Yes!" I shouted, incredulous. "I practically walked _in _on you making your choice. What happened between us was a fluke, and it never would have happened if your reunion," I made air quotation marks, "with Elena hadn't backfired."

He chuckled dryly. "What do you think happened between me and Elena that day?"

"Ugh, I rather not go there, please."

"You'd be surprised," he almost seemed to gloat.

I opted to focus on the real issue at hand. "How do we…or I break this curse?"

Damon remained adamant to talk about what I didn't want to hear. "It didn't end the way you probably think it did. Not even close."

That gave me pause.

He grinned. "You left before the main event started. Nothing happened."

They didn't…?

"Elena was the aggressor," Damon filled in, "but I certainly didn't follow through on my end. One of us needed to put our foot down and mean it."

"Sooooo…"

"I haven't touched her in weeks."

I let that tidbit of info marinate before speaking again. "Why are you telling me this?"

Damon slid to the edge of the couch looking the most serious I've ever seen him. "On that island, I realized something. When I was interrogating—"

"—torturing Shane," I interjected.

"—when I was interrogating him he thought he could use me as a control to make sure you didn't go over the edge and kill yourself using Expression. I told him I didn't give a crap about you. Said the same thing to Elena not two seconds later. And…I meant it."

As much as I didn't want to recoil, hearing Damon say what I kind of always figured, stung nonetheless. My hand balled into a fist but I maintained a blank face the best I could.

I didn't break eye contact with Damon who studied me intensely. He wasn't the only one good at playing poker face. He was better at it but I was a close second.

"I didn't give a shit about what happened to anyone because my mind was focused on the bottom line. Getting the cure for Elena. It didn't matter who had to die or who was exploited so long as she got the cure and I could know if her feelings for me were real. But," Damon sighed, "when you turned up missing and I thought you were being led to your death by that asshole professor…I found myself about to eat those words."

The urge to move was strong and catapulted me off the couch. I rounded the sofa and walked over to the windows. It was nearing midnight but because it was Saturday there was still a lot of activity happening on the streets.

"Bonnie…"

"So you were scared that I was going to be killed before Elena got the cure? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

He stood behind me and I didn't even hear him move, but my hair fluttered due to the wind he created in moving so fast.

"This probably won't come as a surprise that there's a short list of people I actually_ don't_ want dead," he laid a hand on my shoulder and turned me around. I couldn't look at him but Damon lifted my chin with his finger. "When you faked your death to fool Klaus and I was left alone with your body…I knew, at least hoped you weren't really dead..."

"Again, if I was then who would save Elena?"

"This isn't about Elena!" he erupted, voice echoing off the walls. "This is about _you. _I looked at your body sprawled out on that floor, Bonnie and do you know what I did?"

"Dumped me in your trunk?" I flippantly replied.

He snorted and then ran his warm fingers along my cheek and stroked my jaw. "That's what I did. I had to touch you."

My skin puckered and breath rushed through my parted lips shakily.

"I had to feel your skin, your warmth to reassure myself you weren't really dead. I didn't do it to impress anyone that yeah I do have a heart in my chest. That I actually do give a shit. And it wasn't until I was on that island looking for you that I remembered that feeling."

This man was a paradox and mystifying. "But…not long after that you and Elena became official."

"You're presented with what you thought you've always wanted, what are you going to do? Pass it up for a fleeting moment of caring about someone that you're not even really friends with?"

Guess he had me there.

"I cared about Rose," Damon went on, "and in my own fucked up way I cared about Alaric, but you were different. You've always been different. When other people tell me to do XYZ I laugh in their face or break it with my fist. But when _you _tell me I can't argue with you, and that drives me up the fucking wall."

I half-laughed at Damon's annoyed expression.

He cradled my face and slithered even closer. My stomach flipped, butterflies raced, and my nose began to tingle as a sure sign my eyes would begin to sprout tears very shortly.

The hard planes of Damon's face morphed. He let down the veil just enough for me to catch a glimpse of vulnerability. "What do you feel for me? When did things for you change?"

I thought for a minute. "I don't think I realized I cared anything about you, Damon until you started getting closer to Elena, and she started to love you back. Openly. Brazenly."

Maneuvering my face out of his hands, I continued, "I spent a lot of time with Shane and he could read the situation for what it was, but he never pushed me to be honest with myself, and I should have. I wanted you to notice me for me and not for the spells I could do. I wanted…" sobs choked me for a minute but I pushed through them. "I wanted you to want me how you wanted Katherine and Elena, but differently. I just wanted you to _see_ me, Damon."

We stared unblinkingly at one another. Tension began to coil around us and changed the rhythm of our breathing. He was so close to me and I him it would take nothing for our bodies to touch but we resisted. We had to. But I marveled at the sparks I saw firing in his orbs, the flare of his nostrils, the rise and fall of his chest.

When Damon spoke again, his voice was husky. "You have the ability to make me weak, Bonnie."

"I don't understand."

"Good because if you ever figure it out I'll be shit out of luck," he tacked on a smile.

Would take that under advisement.

"So what happens now?" I inquired. "Where do we go?"

Damon didn't answer. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the couch. We sat down together and I watched as he pulled a black duffel bag out of hiding and began unloading items.

I recognized most of what he unpacked: thyme, sage, some rare looking flower in a Ziploc bag, red rose petals, two liquid filled vials, candles, and a stone mixing bowl.

I lit the candles as Damon instructed while he mixed the various ingredients together. Then he slid over a piece of paper with an enchantment scribbled down that we were to repeat together.

Before the recitation of the spell begun, Damon had to bind our wrists with a piece of twine. The last thing we would have to do was add our blood.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes."

We stared at one another and started the spell. We were supposed to keep reciting it until all four candles went out and the ingredients in the bowl ignited. It had to burn for twenty-four hours straight.

Our words flowed together in harmony, his tenor melding with my alto. About two minutes into the spell one candle blew out. A minute later another. Within six minutes all the candles had been blown out and then we pricked our fingers and added our blood to the bowl. Flames immediately burst forward.

We never ceased in repeating the spell. The twine loosened around my wrist, caught fire and burned away leaving my skin unharmed. The same happened to Damon.

It was done.

The curse was now supposedly lifted though I didn't feel any different.

Drowsiness wrapped me up in its loving arms and I yawned. "I guess that's it aside from letting this burn."

I faced Damon when he didn't make a comment. He just gazed at me and I found myself with that absurd yearning to know what he was thinking.

Damon cleared his throat and finally looked away. "You should get some sleep."

"Was there something else you wanted to tell me?"

"No," he rose from the couch and headed to the kitchen. His guard was back up.

Cutting my losses, I took Damon up on his suggestion. I went to bed and fell into an erotic sleep.

* * *

That night I dreamt about Damon sliding into bed naked with me, spooning me from behind, kissing my bare shoulder since I was equally disrobed. We'd made a couple of minute adjustments and then groaned simultaneously as he slid—hot, heavy, and _hard _ into my deliciously wet center, unionizing our flesh. Slowly he pumped into me so I could experience every single inch of his granite manhood. The friction and heat between us took my breath away and I craned my neck to receive Damon's kiss.

He loved me tenderly, passionately, _fiercely, _making me come and cross my eyes.

My eyes fluttered open and I was satisfied and disappointed. Satisfied that in my dreams everything was perfect. Disappointed because I knew it would be a long road before we even got there. If Damon even wanted to try and build a genuine friendship between us first.

He could call himself being Elena's friend, but things between them had been unbalanced from the start. He held all the power while she ran in a race that started a hundred plus years before her birth. He said I had the power to make him weak, I doubted that severely because Petrovas had proven to be his kryptonite, his Achilles heel. Bennetts on the other hand made Damon into a man of his word, well sort of.

Sunlight poured into the room and I stretched my arms above my head and sat up, bracing my weight against the headboard.

The smells of coffee, toast, eggs, and pancakes wafted from the kitchen and my stomach immediately began growling. Throwing the covers off, I padded to the bathroom first to make myself presentable before joining Damon in the kitchen.

I was momentarily distracted by the fact the fire in the bowl was still raging strong. The next thing to distract me was Damon himself.

Did he purposely buy his T-shirts in a smaller size so they could practically hug his torso?

I made myself home at the breakfast bar and it occurred to me this was the longest Damon and I had hung around each other. "Hey."

"Morning," he turned around and handed me a cup of coffee. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" he informed and then grinned slyly. "Well you didn't do much talking so much as…"

"If you value your undead life you_ won't _finish that sentence."

Damon smiled from ear-to-ear without showing teeth, and I had to say he had a nice smile when it wasn't being delivered sarcastically or patronizingly.

Great, was I going to turn into one of those women who idolized every small thing about the man she liked or loved?

No, I could chalk up my admiration to the fact I never really cared to look beyond Damon's superficiality to see his substance. It was his substance more than anything else I wanted to get to know, and now that I thought about it, I was granted backstage access to it last night.

Not a whole lot of people could brag about seeing the sides that actually made Damon a multi-dimensional being. But I could.

"So what were you dreaming about, witchy?" Damon placed a plate loaded with food in front of me and leaned against the counter, biting into his lower lip pensively.

"I was dreamin," and picked up my fork, "about how good these pancakes are going to taste."

He rolled his eyes.

After slicing into one fluffy pancake that Damon had taken the time to make a strategic blueberry smiley face, whipped cream fangs included, I bobbed my head at the delicious, melt-on-your tongue taste.

"Thank you, Damon."

He held up a coffee mug and winked. "Don't mention it."

"No, I don't mean about cooking breakfast but for last night," I murmured softly. One of his eyebrows lifted then the other. "And for staying behind on the island to look for me. For believing in me. Thank you for being one person I can depend on even if you're an asshole half the time I've needed your help."

Damon sat the mug aside and dropped his hand on top of mine, curling his fingers, seeking out my own.

That electric rush came barreling back and thought left my brain.

"Like I said, Bonnie, don't mention it."

He held my hand for an additional minute before letting go, but not before I saw a glimpse into the future and knew this would be our true beginning.

The End.

**A/N: How do we likey? I changed the Original Phantom SL because how the creature was defeated in the book was long and drawn out and I didn't want to get into all of that. So if you read the ghostwritten version of that particular tale and was hoping for something similar, so sorry, not really. This is the end of the Covet/Crave series, but clearly this isn't the end of Bamon's journey. I may check in with these two to see how they're doing, but only if there's a genuine outpouring of interest. *Hint-hint* Anyways, thank you loves for reading! Let me know what you think. **


	7. Inspired by KG's Muse

**A/N: So this here little nugget is inspired by Kat's upcoming short films titled "Muse" due to be released on Feb. 10****th****. This of course doesn't really follow anything that's canon, apart from some minor background. I didn't name the guy Bonnie is with but I'll just say, yeah I was writing mostly from a particular Salvatore's POV, but anyone else could have worked in this "role" just as well. Enjoy! Oh, and this is AH.**

Disclaimer: These characters belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Christ. My head throbbed like a sonofabitch, mouth drier than cotton, and I was fairly sure without having to look, my eyes were redder than bull's balls. Tossing the sweat soaked sheets off my body, I blindly reached for my smokes and lighter on the messy night table, but then tossed a glance over my shoulder and noticed the spot behind me was empty.

Stabbing a cig in my mouth, I shook the lighter before flicking it open, cupping my hand around that precious red-orange flame so it wouldn't burn out before lighting my smoke. The sweet acrid taste of nicotine, and about a thousand different chemicals that'll kill a man several years after his first Marlboro, filled my nose, trachea, and lungs. Instant relief, but then the fucking pounding in my head intensified.

Wincing slightly against the pain, I inhaled more toxic smoke into my lungs, scratched my chest, and scanned the crappy hotel we settled in for the night. One of many rolling suitcases was thrown open, the contents rifled through. A shoe here, sock there, my briefs hanging on the doorknob leading to…hell I didn't really know and wasn't going to find out.

My lady love was nowhere to be found, but I knew she was near. Beyond the haze of billowy white-gray smoke, I could detect hints of her perfume. Something French I didn't know the name of. She wore it all the time, dabbed it carefully behind her ears, on her wrists, between her tits, and right below her navel. If we were going someplace special she'd dab some on the inside of her thighs. You could say I thoroughly enjoyed going on a sniffing exploration at the end of the night.

Right before I was about to bellow her name, I could hear her humming in the bathroom. A tune I knew by heart, had all the nuances memorized and could hum it right along with her and on key, too.

Once again it was something French she once explained when I questioned her about it after a night of fucking that literally had me gasping for breath.

"_What's that song you're always humming?" I asked once I learned how to breathe less sporadically. _

_Her bowed mouth stretched into a smile, but her eyes failed to match the joy happening beneath her button nose. _

_There was pain there lodged in her heart, caught in her eyes, but she never let her smile in on what had gone awry. _

_She threw one thick, hosiery covered thigh over my legs, straddling me. "It's an untitled song about a woman who loved a man that was promised to her sister. She dreamt about him nightly, about the kind of life they could have if he would just notice her, but her sister was too classically beautiful that everyone else around her was invisible. Her sister's good looks made her feel entitled, she enjoyed the attention, but could love no one outside of herself. So the other sister kept quiet and watched her love marry another. Invisibility, I know what that feels like." _

And I believed her, though it was hard because she's a fucking knockout, but I believed her because tears filled her eyes that she quickly laughed off and blinked away.

I never asked her any personal questions because I liked the bubble of mystery her diminutive frame was shrouded in, and she never offered up any details about her life prior to us meeting in some dive bar in Virginia. She had been on a quest of reinvention, and I was searching for a muse to spark my hunger for films and photography once more. She provided me with a blank canvas on which to create, and I promised her anonymity and freedom.

That day, the day which changed everything I thought I believed in, was one I'd never forget.

The door to the bathroom flew open and she stood there at the sink, dressed in thigh-highs, garter belt, lacy boy shorts, bra, and patent leather fuck me pumps—every single article in the color she wore religiously, black.

Gotdamn she was a vision.

She teased her short, wavy hair with slender fingers, puckered her lips, made love to her mirrored reflection before smiling at me.

"Good morning," she went back to posing and touching up her makeup.

I don't ever think I've ever seen her without any makeup on. As an artist I wanted to get beneath that veneer, but she chose to keep me at arm's length in that regard.

My eyes trailed down her silhouette, her flat stomach, the flare of her hips, her sculpted calves, before journeying upward to her heaving breasts.

Feeling inspired, I bounded out of bed, stubbed my toe on a chair, cursed, then ruffled through my equipment bag looking for my Rolleliflex TLR camera.

I had been filming my muse for weeks, documentary style doing the most mundane things to those needing an NC-17 rating, not that I had any plans to produce that footage. She moved liked a spirit not of this world, had the voice of a sultry blues singer, and the aesthetics of a cover model from the 40's. It was a little embarrassing I found myself addicted to damn near everything about her, yet there was little about her I'd actually put up any effort to change.

Once I had everything set up I began snapping away. She had gotten used the intrusion of me filming her during her private time, and for the most part ignored me like she was doing now as she brushed her teeth.

"Who will we be today?" she asked the second her grooming was complete.

My muse paused right in the threshold and jutted out her hip, folded her arms pushing up her tits in the process.

"I don't know. What do you have in mind?" I clicked away, eyes darting between her and the lens of the camera.

Assuming different identities had become our thing. She said she never wanted to be the same person twice because she had gotten stuck in who she used to be. Cryptic speak that gave no further insight into who she really was. It did make me curious if she was running from someone, but she didn't seem the battered type. Or at the very least didn't carry any physical scars that suggested domestic violence. When she spoke of home, on those rare occasions, she did so with melancholy as the garnishment. A little bitterness, but never rage.

"_I miss home, but that's about it,"_ she'd say and distract me so I'd forget I didn't really know a thing about her that was the truth.

"I was thinking," she ground the toe of her pump into the rust hued carpet, "I was thinking you could be Iago and I could be…"

"Desdemona?"

"No, Michael-_a_ Cassio. Wonder if anyone would make the connection."

"Probably not. The only play of Shakespeare's most people remember from high school is Romeo &amp; Juliet."

"You'd be surprised."

"Doubt it. I look like an Iago?" my face contorted into bemusement.

She assessed me, pushed away from the doorjamb and approached. I didn't cease in my picture taking. The disjointed, unfocused images sometimes proved to be more beautiful and meaningful than something perfectly executed.

My muse draped her thin, muscular arms over my shoulders. The four inch heels on her feet didn't even come close to making us equal in height, but she could almost stare me directly in the eye. Doll size, that was her.

"You can pass for anything or anyone because your look is so ubiquitous," she threaded her fingers through my tousled hair.

That earned her grin which faded the moment my stomach growled.

She stepped away from me and lowered her gaze to my bare torso. She laughed and then pouted. "Guess you need food before we do anything too…strenuous today."

Now that she mentioned it, my lower back was fucking killing me because I put it down like I'd never get to feel, touch, taste, or stroke a pussy another day of my life.

My muse pecked my lips, pivoted, and retrieved her tan trench coat that covered very little. "I'll make a run for some eats. You stay, shower, and wait for me."

"Just a suggestion…but don't you think you should at least put on a shirt?"

She stared down at herself. "Hmm, you're right. No need in getting pulled over by the cops since neither one of us has bail money."

I picked up my wrinkled Oxford and held it out to her. She took it and threw it over her undergarments. That wasn't necessarily an improvement, but she was more covered than she had been seconds ago.

"I'll be back," she whispered and kissed me again, this time slipping her tongue in my mouth.

I hated that she had to taste cigarette smoke and morning breath. She deserved much better than that.

When she pulled away she definitely let her repulsion show. "Ugh, brush your gotdamn teeth, too."

I laughed and swatted her thick ass. She yelped and glared, but the glare melted into a shy smile, and she sashayed her way out of the room once she had her purse and my car keys in hand.

She hadn't been gone two seconds before loneliness crept up on me like fog rolling over a bayou. Was I codependent? My muse made me need her in ways that defied belief, and I would like to think she needed me just as much. We had been roaming around living a nomad lifestyle for eight months—my longest relationship to date. It had to mean something to her, too, right?

Like this one night we went out in particular. It was December. Slush on the ground, the meteorologist forecasting more snow, as we as pedestrians waded through gridlocked traffic. We held hands mostly so she wouldn't slip and break her ankle in the ridiculous pumps she couldn't go without since they "matched her outfit perfectly". We made our way to a lower Manhattan speakeasy. I paid the cover charge, she bought the drinks, and in no time we were seated in a booth, our hands doing naughty things to one another.

At some point she grew distracted and when I finally took notice of what held her attention, I could say I was surprised.

It was another woman. Ebony skin, long straight hair, dark eyes, a body that was a mile long. She whispered if she should ask her to dance, I told her to go for it.

Shyly she approached the woman who probably spent a majority of the night swatting away suitors like flies. But she allowed my Muse to sit down, share a drink, and then the both of them were laughing like old friends.

I can't explain how it happened, how everything unfolded. I sat alone, watching them, chugging whiskey until my tongue was numb, and the next minute both of them were sliding into the booth with me, one on each side. The statuesque woman extended her hand, introduced herself as "Tiny" which could have been the biggest oxymoron I had come across. I told her it was nice to meet her. We traded stats, had drinks, and Tiny casually invited us back to her place.

She was living out of a suitcase, she explained, the minute we stepped foot in the hotel penthouse suite. She had a layover before catching a flight to Martinique where she was from.

More drinks were dispensed, music began streaming, and my Muse and the amazon from Martinique began dancing, tentatively touching one another.

I always carried a camera with me and I began filming them, but stopped once Tiny frowned in my direction. But then she smiled and asked if I wanted to see a show? I mutely nodded while she whispered to my Muse who blushed and shrugged.

Tiny led her to a bedroom, panties were pulled down, and my eyes doubled in size as I watched my Muse being eaten by a woman.

The litany of emotions that crossed her face left my jaw hanging by a thread, and my dick so hard I could hit a homerun straight out of the park.

Tiny had stopped her feasting for only a moment, lips and chin glistening, and she crooked her finger for me to join. I did.

We departed early in the am, my Muse barely able to walk straight, me unable to stop grinning like a loon. "Did you enjoy it…what she did?" I asked her in the quiet of our less glamorous, shabby hotel room.

"I did but I prefer your tongue over anyone else's. I know what I'm getting when I'm with you, and you're more than enough for me."

That was the closest she'd ever come to saying she trusted me.

Presently I shivered and forced myself away from that particular memory since I was alone and unable to work out my frustration.

No time like the present to check my messages, my cell phone, one of various sources of communication with the outside word. Of course it would be dead once I found it, and had to go on a five-minute hunt through shoes, garter belts, fishnets, mink wraps, t-shirts to find the charger.

Plugging it in, I dashed in the bathroom and got presentable. Washed the sleep out of my eyes, scrubbed the bacteria from my mouth, and cleansed my body to the point my skin was overly tight as if I had received a full body injection of Botox.

By the time I was done, I had enough juice in my cell to power it on and scroll through missed calls, emails, and text messages. There hadn't been that many. Just a text from someone I left behind on the pursuit to actually do something productive with my life. Before I left home, people only reached out to me if the person they really wanted to talk to couldn't be found, so I wasn't terribly surprised that I couldn't shake this one person.

I typed a quick, noncommittal response and shutdown my phone.

My Muse returned with two paper bags filled with burgers, fries, and milkshakes.

I cleaned off the kitchenette table despising we had to live in such squalor, but my Muse didn't seem to mind. She never complained, never turned up her nose—well not much. If there was a real foul odor then she would get to railing, but other than that, nothing seemed to bother her.

We sat down, ate our artery clogging meal in companionable silence. Intermittingly she'd suck ketchup off her fingers in an inadvertently suggestive way.

"Trying to get me hard?" I viciously bit into my quarter pounder with cheese.

"You're always hard."

I shrugged because denying the truth of her words would only make me out to be a liar.

"What time are we leaving for the boardwalk?" she asked.

"I was thinking we could head out around five. There should be less people and that'll give us a few hours of sunlight before dusk, _Michaela," _I tested out her new name.

She slurped from her straw and laughed. "Do you have a favorite Shakespeare villain?"

I had to think about that for a moment. Growing up, I read just about every last one of his comedies, tragedies, and historical plays, even the ones not as well-known such as _The Merry Wives of Windsor, _and _Troilus and Cressida. _

"Yes…Hamlet."

She sputtered, "Hamlet? Hamlet wasn't a villain."

"He may have been written as the protagonist but the dude was a whiny daddy's boy who drove his own girlfriend crazy, drove her to suicide then killed her brother and father in his quest to kill_ his_ mom and her new husband that yes admittedly plotted and had assassinated his dad."

"Well…I guess when you put it like that, but it was written as a tragedy and I took it as a lesson about what happens when you try to take revenge into your own hands. It doesn't end well."

"Can't say that was the lesson ole Bill Shakespeare was going for,"—she laughed—"but it's a good lesson, regardless."

"Don't you have something in common with Hamlet?" my Muse batted her lashes.

I smirked and judiciously decided not to answer.

My muse grew deceptively quiet. "I thought about it once."

"Thought about what?"

She hesitated before saying, "Suicide."

I stopped chewing, stopped breathing, sat my unfinished burger down and gawked. "Y-you…why?"

Her dainty shoulders shrugged. Her vibrant green eyes became dull, practically lifeless as she looked straight through me, seeing something I couldn't see.

"Why would you want to end your life?"

She leaned her elbows on the table, drew closer, the sweet smell of the chocolate milkshake on her breath, "Do you see a survivor when you see me? Do you see the depth of my sorrow? My survival is in the footsteps of those who came before me, runs through my blood, strengthens my skin; and my sorrow I carried in my hair, that's why I chopped it all off. I was alone in every way imaginable. I saw my father being murdered and couldn't stop it. I was only feet away when my mom was killed. My grandmother died in her sleep. My friends they didn't love me, not as much as I loved them. Orphaned, emotionally bankrupt and I wanted the pain to end. Death is the avenger to happiness and it courted me relentlessly until I gave it what it wanted…_me_."

"But you're still here."

My muse smiled, making her cheekbones pop, and grazed my chin with her sharp nails. "Am I? Or are you just dreaming?"

The question was asked with the kind of foreboding which made me speculate if she knew something I didn't. Like the audience being clued in on who the killer was before the detectives working the case. My muse slid out of her chair and onto my lap, hooking her arms around my neck. The warmth of her body soaked through my clothes, heated my flesh in response. So close to me and I couldn't think. Her essence always scrambled my brain like eggs.

With one hand I began unbuttoning my shirt, exposing her creamy brown skin. "I'm sorry about your family," I said sincerely. She merely blinked. "Your friends are assholes not to take care of a gem like you, be there for you when you needed them the most. But I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

"Everything is temporary."

"Not me," I asserted heatedly. "Not us."

She kissed me, just the barest press of her mouth on mine. "Are you looking to turn me into an honest woman?"

"One day."

"You mate for life?"

"Only with you."

"Why?"

I brushed the shirt off her shoulders. It fluttered to the floor and I greedily drank her in, in black and lace.

"Because," my hand reached behind her for the clasp to her bra. "We're two sides of the same coin. Cut from the same cloth."

Her shoulders moved as I worked the straps of her bra down her arms and it too joined the shirt on the stained carpet. Two globes rose and fell with every breath my Muse took. Her nipples were already puckering and I had yet to fondle or taste them. She had joked with me once that I could make her climax just by looking at her while spread out naked on a bed. She said my eyes were capable of touch just like my hands were. Of course I had to put that particular theory to test, and well the results had been conclusive. My gaze alone could get her off.

You could only imagine what that did for my ego.

Deft fingers sank into my shoulders and raked their way south. I returned the gesture with strokes along her ribcage that made her quiver, and cry out the minute I palmed a tit and rubbed her nipple gently.

Her eyes closed and her head fell back. "Do you feel like filming?" she asked.

"I do."

"Time to make another short."

I grinned. Anytime between us was never short.

**A/N: Maybe continue later?**


	8. Bamon-Hard Limits

**A/N: Back with another one. Thank you to everyone who reviewed my "Muse" inspired fic. This one is post 6x15 but I'm leaving Lily "Mama" Salvatore out of this particular story line. I warn you Bonnie may come off a lil OOC in this but there's a reason for that. You'll see. There's a little Bamon/Bonkai/DE but nothing too shippy, if you get my drift. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These ain't my characters. They belong to LJ Smith/CW Network. Copyright infringement is not intended.

* * *

"Are you going to be okay here?" Damon spoke the question lowly, for Bonnie's ears only.

She nodded infinitesimally but as Damon held her gaze he was unsure if she were telling the truth or not. She was guarded but not fidgety, not like she had been when she first returned and jumped whenever someone stepped into a room she occupied, or her cell rang and she heard a voice on the other end. Getting her to a place to accept being around people had been arduous and Damon certainly didn't want her to regress.

He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers reinforcing the fact he was real, and that none of this was a figment of her imagination. She had confided that on the hard days she would lay out on the couch, stare at the wall, and wait to hear his voice or any voice, would picture and daydream about it until unconsciousness swallowed her whole. He couldn't imagine it. The endless loneliness and solitude, literally being the only thing alive on the planet. He may have been tortured for nearly a decade but he at least had someone to talk to. Bonnie had had nothing and no one.

Damon waited for her to smile in that shy way she did, which he wanted to say was adorable, but he hated using the word unless he was being patronizing.

A corner of Bonnie's mouth did tilt upward; however, there was little innocence in the gesture. He wondered about that for a mere second before his attention was thwarted to Elena who paused in the threshold eyeing the two of them. Standing so close and holding hands.

"We're ready," the doppelganger announced. "Come on, Damon, we need to go."

He nodded and swung his head back to Bonnie who he could tell had already retreated inwardly. Again, he applied pressure on her little fingers and waited for her to squeeze his back. She did—lightly, and snaked her hand away before taking a step away.

"Be careful," she whispered.

"Stay put," Damon told her. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

Bonnie watched him stride across the parlor toward Elena who glanced back and forth between them. Elena offered her a smile that Bonnie didn't return, but did lift her hand and waved at the doppelganger. But of course, once Damon was in reaching distance all else ceased to exist with Elena as her entire body altered from insecure to self-assured the moment Damon placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the room. The transformation had been like a flower blooming, its petals spreading to catch and soak up rays of sunlight. She came alive with Damon and died a little when they were apart. Bonnie could see it so clearly and it sickened her.

She inhaled loudly and looked around the empty parlor. Sliding her hands into the back pocket of her jeans, she didn't know what to do. Everyone else was going after Caroline. Bonnie had volunteered to stay behind in case she came back. She had the power to entrap Caroline indoors. No, she hadn't wanted to be alone and wait, but what were their other options?

Bonnie wove her way to the couch where she picked up a throw pillow and punched it. There were a pile of magazines spread over the table that she straightened and then placed in alphabetical order. Nothing else needed tidying up as she gave the room a panoramic viewing.

She heard the front door swing open and Bonnie left the parlor wondering who it might be.

She skittered to a stop when Kai swept into the boardinghouse looking up to no good.

Trading niceties wasn't on her agenda. "What are you doing here?"

Letting the door slam closed Kai looked Bonnie over from head to toe. She certainly knew how to fill out her clothes; her hair had gotten longer. It now touched her shoulders that were housed in a tight fitted black long sleeve shirt with a plunging neckline that offered a view of her cleavage. Her black jeans were damn near sinful the way he imagined they hugged her juicy ass. Dark chocolate riding boots completed her outfit.

"I came looking for you."

"Why?"

Kai began to advance down the hall in measured steps, placing one combat boot in front of the other, cocking his head to the side while stapling his azure gaze on the Bennett witch. He grinned as he caught sight of her nostrils flaring, lifted an eyebrow the second Bonnie straightened her spine, and released a hard breath as he observed the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

"_What _do you want, Kai?"

He came to a stop a few inches away from Bonnie. And as he had come to know her in the four months he spent watching her entertaining interaction with Damon Salvatore, she smelled _amazing. _Like homemade apple pie, mint, sunshine and a dozen other sappy scents that would leave a man writing haikus about. Bonnie, back then, had the countenance of a newborn puppy you literally wanted to squeeze the life out of. Feisty and clumsy but no less precious.

"Just wanted to check up on you. See how you're enjoying your newfound freedom. Things were pretty much touch and go," he smiled.

"No thanks to you, asshole," Bonnie bit out and closed the gap between them. "You stabbed me in the stomach and left me for dead. Excellent reasons to end you right now."

"So why don't you? You have your magic back. What's stopping you? You had no problems with sending an ax into my chest."

"And I'd gladly do it again."

Kai grabbed her arm, bracing down hoping Bonnie would grimace or wince in pain, but she merely studied his hold on her before dragging her eyes up to his face—slowly. His brows pinched together in confusion because she should have been moaning and pleading with him to let her go because he was using everything in him to drain everything in her. Suck her raw like a lemon.

Reflexively his hand tightened that Kai was sure he was grinding her bones together, but still Bonnie didn't react.

He almost articulated this question, "Why isn't this working?" but it was interrupted when Bonnie planted her foot in the center of his chest and thrust him backwards.

He went flying down the hallway and crashed into a wall before toppling to the floor. Cursing and arching his sore and throbbing back, Kai focused on Bonnie just in time to see her fist flash across his vision and crack his jaw. He tried to grab on to a piece of consciousness but it fell through his fingers like grains of sand.

Standing poised over Kai's unconscious body and breathing erratically, Bonnie extended and balled her aching fist. Kill him, ridding the world of his existence wouldn't give her back the months she spent alone in captivity. It wouldn't erase the depression, the loathing, the hatred that was currently swimming around and boiling in her blood. It would be a momentary solution. Like the misogynistic men she dealt with in the past they had a penchant for playing games. What Kai lacked was a conscience, empathy, compassion, accountability. He may have experienced residual feelings due to merging with Luke, but that would be temporary. No, what he needed was permanence.

Kneeling down to her haunches, Bonnie ran her sharp nails through Kai's raven locks before burying them into his scalp, penetrating deep enough to touch his skull. "What to do with you?" she grinned.

* * *

Like a doll Kai's eyes opened but he had a severe case of tunnel vision as if he were looking through a pair of binoculars with one eye closed. He knew he was sitting propped up in a chair, but he couldn't move his arms or legs despite the fact they weren't tied down with rope or chains. Magic. He smelled it. Everywhere. A dense fragrance that flooded his air passages and coated his tongue with the taste of copper pennies.

Sweat pebbled along his hairline and dotted his forehead, crowded under his arm pits and the center of his back. He felt drugged, had no idea how long he had been out, nor had any clue as to what Bonnie had been up to. His pants were still zipped so she hadn't taken any liberties and molested him while unconscious. Kai wanted to pout in disappointment, but he had little control over any of the muscles currently held in a vise by whatever spell Bonnie lobbed on his head.

Growing up Kai never bothered to learn any spells since he didn't and couldn't wield magic in the classic sense. He could absorb powers and then use them however he saw fit, in whichever way pleased him. He likened himself to be more telekinetic than magical and he paid dearly for his defect.

Ergo, murdering members of his coven who denied him what he wanted most and being shunned to a prison world.

Suddenly, fluid began leaking out of his nose and his insides cramped as if something was twisting his liver and intestines determined to turn them into mush. Groaning and cursing, Kai blinked rapidly expecting to see a hand burrowed in his abdomen, but of course nothing was there.

Lifting his head that simply felt like it weighed a ton, Kai laughed mirthlessly at seeing Bonnie perched on the coffee table leisurely sipping a glass of water.

He squinted through one eye as the other seemed to swell shut. Bonnie was a blur, an amalgam of colors and body parts. She had fingers for lips, arms for legs, ears for eyes. Everything was disjointed and went on a tailspin making his gag reflex flutter and he dry heaved. His ears popped, breathing became stucco, his toes caught cramps.

"…w-what are…you doing…to…me?" he rasped.

Sitting the half empty glass of water on the table next to her hip, Bonnie crossed her legs and stared at her prisoner. "Here's the thing…I don't really know what to do with you, Kai. Killing you won't change what happened in the past, but it would stop whatever you have planned for the future."

He chortled tiredly and lifted his head until it reared backwards and crashed into the chair. He swallowed a dry ball of spit that made his esophagus flame painfully, wishing for a glass of water.

"Witches can't be compelled," Bonnie went on to say. "Using spells to change human behavior is a taboo, but you need reconditioning."

"That's what you're planning on doing? Conditioning me? Have fun."

"Oh, I plan to. You might not believe you have a soul, but you do," Bonnie nodded sagely. "And I'm going to dig it out of you."

Kai's head fell forward like a rag doll. "There are a million things you can do to me, Bonnie," he panted. "You could make me walk in front of a speeding truck, stab myself, jump off a building…"

"What makes you think I won't make you do this things _before _conditioning you?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Kai reassessed Bonnie but she kept moving although he knew she was sitting perfectly still. The landscape behind her vibrated and his center of gravity was shot. Kai was convinced he was plummeting to his death despite being aware his ass was tied down to a chair.

He growled and let out a vicious scream, "_Stop it!" _he demanded.

"Could you imagine feeling what you're currently going through for eternity?" Bonnie asked coolly and crossed one leg over the other. "Too much magic can make you sick, not enough could make your organs shut down, desiccate. In your case it could be fatal since you have to absorb the powers of others to have your own."

"I merged…with Luke…"

"Read the fine print, doll, he wasn't the twin you were supposed to merge with. Your body knows it and like a donated organ it's rejecting it. I'm merely speeding up the process."

Kai squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of nauseating pain tore through him, ripping his innards into shreds. "Bonnie…please…"

"Please? I'm surprised you even know that word," she shot to her feet then and began to pace.

Blood exploded out of the captured warlock's mouth, painting his chin a gruesome shade of maroon. Bonnie sucked her teeth at the display and stared as Kai began to laugh. Softly at first but then louder and louder until he was cackling.

"Why are you wasting your time trying to punish me, Bonnie?" Kai cracked open an eye but the light beaming into it was so bright he really thought his retina was being singed right out of his socket. "You could be doing so many _other _things."

"Such as?"

Worming his swelling tongue around his mouth, Kai coughed and spat out another wad of blood on the Persian rug. "You could be with Damon," he tried to glare at Bonnie, but her upper torso was floating several feet above her legs as if she had been severed in two. The thought brought a modicum of peace to Kai's riotous thoughts. "You could be riding shotgun in his car right now looking for that perky blonde thing. You…could be in Elena's place."

"Simple minded creature," Bonnie shook her head.

"Oh, don't act like you _haven't _thought about it. I saw the way you'd sometimes look at Damon while you two had dinner and he was busy reading. He would look at you the same way."

Bonnie folded her arms and tapped her fingers along her bicep. She didn't want to question or give credence to anything Kai had to say about her and Damon. His observations and opinion were irrelevant.

"You don't think Damon would be interested in you that way because of Elena? Is that it?"

"I _can _make you stop talking, Kai so I'm giving you the chance to do it voluntarily."

But he ignored her and laughed joyously. "Did you know when I was released and met up with the two of them in the woods, I set Elena's arm on fire? Well, technically it was the ascendant I sent up into flames that Elena just so happened to be holding. Did that stop Damon from taking a tree branch to my solar plexus? No. He _let_ her burn. Yet he had been willing to give up his chance to go home to heal you of that nice little arrow I sent plunging into your belly."

Bonnie said nothing but sent another burst of pain, confusion, and discomfort at Kai that made him sputter and gasp, to which he laughed off.

He looked wild and unhinged. Every vein in his right eye had ruptured turning the sclera completely red. Blood leaked from both nostrils, mouth caked in the substance while a lovely vein traveled down the center of his sweat drenched forehead. His cheeks were ruddy, and his teeth were cinched on top of one another also stained with blood.

"I can see why he digs Elena so much. That perpetual tan, those big brown eyes, decent rack, long legs. There's a level of exoticness about her you wouldn't expect to find in a small fucking town like this, which makes her a jewel, a rose in a field full of weeds. When I snatched her, of course everyone dropped what they were doing to come rescue her."

Bonnie blinked yet continued her vow of silence.

"Elena…" Kai dragged out of her name, "she has a penchant for danger. Did you know she pretended to be dead when Damon eventually found her? She loves the drama, needs it, craves it and everyone is so eager to indulge her. Why?"

"I have a better question…why are you telling me this?"

Kai squirmed or at least tried to squirm on the hard surface of the chair. The magical, invisible binds holding him in place hadn't loosened one bit. Shit. The room was moving again or he was, but the feeling of movement was on him making him dizzy and nauseous. If his hands worked and weren't contorted, he could, in theory, grab a hold of Bonnie's magic from the air itself and absorb enough of it to free himself. But she anticipated something like that and made it where he couldn't focus on one thing long enough for it to make sense. He was only as coherent as he had been because Bonnie willed it.

"I'm telling you, Bon because you should know where you stand with the people you've given up your life for. _They _let you sit and rot for months. Not me. _They _put the lives of my sisters above rescuing you. Not me. _They _left it up to you to save yourself. Not me. And here you are being the good little witch for them once again."

Bonnie wanted to accuse him of lying but her own history told her Kai was telling the absolute truth. Her problems never measured on anyone's meter of importance, and she had been guilty of brushing aside her issues to focus on the matter at hand.

Unpleasant thoughts fought their way to be remembered.

"_What kind of a best friend would I be if you died before Stefan got his brother back?"_

Lexi had been the first one outside of Grams to put the pieces of the puzzle together she wouldn't survive everyone coming back from the other side through her. But Lexi's concern was _only_ really about Stefan and Damon, not her—Bonnie and the fact that once everyone was reunited she was still doomed.

"_Why would you do that? You know I can't leave without him."_

Her harsh coughing, blood exploding in the center of her hand all of it quickly ignored with the return of one of the Salvatore brothers.

"_Ohmygod are you okay?...Stefan!"_

The only person to ever really look out for her was Grams. Now she didn't even have her anymore.

Shaking her head, Bonnie said it didn't matter. But she did need a minute. Her magic was strong enough to keep Kai in place so she didn't have to stare at his face in order for it to be effective.

Bonnie vacated the library and spelled the door and windows shut just in the off chance he did manage to break her binding spell. He wouldn't be leaving this house until she was good and ready for him to leave.

Making her way to the kitchen, Bonnie headed over to the center island and tapped her fingers on the surface. She swallowed thickly and her head fell forward, her chin almost touching her chest. Her nose tingled and tears were coming.

"_I found peace and I made sure you found yours." _

That peace came with a cost like with most things. Bonnie could say hello to strangers, order at restaurants, or just stare at people; but it had taken ten long heart breaking, soul crushing months for her to do what those around her took for granted every day. She was centered around people but was still so utterly alone. Caroline needed help, but on the inside Bonnie was drowning in her own anger, was being choked by it. Her friends had attempted to throw her a birthday party thinking of _all _things that's what she would have wanted, but all she wanted was to come home. And because the way home seemed bleak, damn near non-existent she nearly killed herself.

She couldn't take it.

Bonnie spotted a knife and sent it flying across the kitchen, and imbedded into the wall. She turned to face her handiwork but called the knife to her, catching it by the handle. Kai would understand pain. He would know what hopelessness felt like. He would beg for death or freedom or freedom in death if it were the last thing she did tonight.

Unfortunately the door to the kitchen would open spilling in her "friends". Bonnie hid the knife behind her back.

Damon stopped speaking in mid-sentence once he and Bonnie made eye contact. He scented blood and magic in the air, and silently questioned her on what she had been up to while they scoured the earth looking for Caroline. Approaching Bonnie who side stepped him, Damon listened.

Her heart was speeding only subtly but there was another heart beat in the house as well. "What's going on?"

"I take it you didn't find Caroline?" Bonnie answered his question with one of her own.

Elena stepped into the kitchen with Matt and Stefan trailing behind her. "No, but we're going to try again in a couple of hours. We need to restock some supplies."

Bonnie nodded and eased over to the exit angling her body in a way to keep the knife concealed. "Okay, well if you need my help with anything…"

"Who else is here, Bonnie?" Damon asked.

"No one."

He didn't believe her. "Don't lie to me. I can hear another heart beating."

"Are you sure about that?"

Stefan and Elena paused to listen and could only detect one. Damon tested the range of his hearing, and what he was sure had been another heartbeat he could now only discern one. The one fluttering in Bonnie's chest.

He stalked up to the witch who rose her chin challengingly. "I smell blood."

"I cut myself earlier."

"It's not your blood," and lightning fast he reached for the arm Bonnie was concealing behind her back surprised to find a knife clutched in her hand, and her nails caked with blood. "Who are you about to stab?" Damon swore he sounded like a parent.

Yanking her hand away, Bonnie glanced at the stunned and slightly disturbed faces the other two vampires and lone human were making. "Does it really fucking matter who I'm about to stab? I wasn't going to stab anything…more like sever."

"Bonnie," Elena gasped, "what…what has gotten into you?"

"Oh, I don't know, _Elena_," she said snidely, "maybe being left to _rot _for ten months does something to a girl's upbeat psyche and she finds herself being less interested in being positive and more interested in vengeance," Bonnie threw the knife on the floor, which narrowly missed striking Damon's foot and stomped around said vampire to flee.

Damon caught up with her on the staircase. "Bonnie what the hell is going on?" he had been afraid something like this would happen.

She whirled around to face him, eyes lit with rage. "Do you really care? Do you honestly fucking care!"

"Of course I do!" he screamed back in her face. They stood only inches apart.

Bonnie nodded but Damon could tell she didn't believe him.

Elena ran to the foot of the stairs and stared up at them. "Bonnie…if you need to talk about something you know we're here for you. Please, just talk to us."

"What is talking going to solve?" Bonnie said but her eyes remained glued on Damon. "You guys can say one thing and do another. Words at this point mean absolutely nothing to me. Unless they are the words of a spell. Like always, Bonnie has to do everything on her own. Save herself. Why does it always have to be that way?" she whispered heatedly.

Taking Bonnie by the hand Damon pulled her up the steps.

Elena made a move to follow but he snapped his head at her and shook it.

He pushed Bonnie inside his room and slammed the door shut. "Spell it so no one can hear us."

Folding her arms, Bonnie glared at him defiantly. "Ask me nicely and I _might _do it."

"Who's in my house, Bonnie?"

"You should know."

"Kai."

Bonnie hunched a shoulder. A tick went off in Damon's jaw. The day had already been tiring enough looking for that gotdamn Caroline. So coming home and dealing with a Hannibal Lecter-esque Bonnie was the last thing Damon wanted to deal with, but he would because he could sense she was about to crack, disintegrate, blow the fuck up. She was hurting and needed a way to let it out. Killing was his invariable go-to solution, but Bonnie wasn't like him. In fact she was better, but this time her healing wouldn't come via a haircut and being a freshman in college.

"Bonnie, I really don't care what you do to him, but I do care about what'll happen to you afterwards. You're not like the rest of us."

"Tell me something I'm don't already know, Damon. I already know that my life pales to everyone—with maybe the exception of Matt, standing under this roof. If Elena had been the one trapped in the prison world she would have been rescued the same exact day. But Bonnie? No, she can sit and wait while everyone else goes about their lives and drama like nothing is wrong until of course there was a bad guy needing to be killed."

"Is that what you believe?"

"It's what I _know! _The world comes to a stop whenever Elena is in trouble but with me…it's like none of my friends could hardly muster up _one_ fuck to give that I was over there suffering. Day in and day out, alone and waiting for someone, _anyone_ to bring me back home. To come get me. You don't know how many times I went to bed telling myself tomorrow would be the day you and Elena came back for me. And it never happened!"

The muscles in Damon's jaw tightened and heat penetrated deep in his belly that felt a lot like shame. He knew there was so much more he could have done for Bonnie, but he didn't.

"Bonnie, I tried everything I could think to try to come back for you. Shit kept happening."

"And in between all that trying how many times did you and Elena fuck?"—Damon's nostrils flared—"She doesn't even remember your ass, but that didn't stop her from giving up the ass."

As inappropriate as it was, Damon wanted to laugh. Instead, he said, "That has nothing to do with anything. Problems kept popping up like they always fucking do, slowing me up, or preventing me altogether from doing what you did for me. And for that I'm sorry, Bonnie. I didn't tell Liz to get cancer. I didn't tell Tripp Fell to grow a hard on to kill vampires, I didn't tell Tyler and Alaric to act like protecting some chicks they barely knew was more important than getting you back. Most importantly, I didn't let Kai out. He got inside your head, didn't he?"

Bonnie turned, giving Damon her back, mumbled some words and placed a dampening spell on the room. "He might be insane but he's the most honest insane person I've encountered."

Lightly taking possession of Bonnie's shoulder, Damon shifted her around to face him. "Bonnie you can't listen to him. You know in your little witchy heart what's the truth. People care about you and though we haven't done a stellar job in showing you that we do give a damn, don't think for one second we don't. And how someone shows you they care varies from person to person. Throughout all the shit and bureaucracy you _never_ stopped being on my mind."

Bonnie didn't speak for a while, but when she was ready she cupped Damon's cheek, but then stepped away from him. "You would do anything for Elena."

It wasn't a question but a comment but Damon nodded. "I'd do anything for you, too."

"But it's different between us."

A look of confusion flashed on Damon's face.

"It's different," Bonnie explained, "because you're in love with her and we're just friends. There are lengths you're prepared to go for someone who is your soul mate versus someone who's just a friend."

"You saved my life, sacrificed your chance of going home. Did you do that only for a friend or a soul mate?"

Now it was Bonnie's turn to look confused. "Saving people is what I do."

"It is but you could have kept me trapped with you."

"I thought I was dying and if I were I wasn't going to sentence you being stuck with Kai forever."

"You're not in that place anymore, Bonnie."

"I know that," her voice was nearly inaudible.

"I don't think you actually believe that. Part of you still feels trapped and alone. Or maybe all of you feels trapped and alone. I'm here. So is Elena, Matt, Caroline…we'll get her back, but we're here for you."

Bonnie shook her head and stared at her fingers, picked at Kai's blood that stained her nail beds. "I don't have you, Damon."

The blue-eyed vampire tipped up Bonnie's chin that quivered under his touch. "What do you need from me?"

She maneuvered her chin from his grasp and put more space between them. "Something you can't give me. Not now at least."

Right before his very blue eyes, Damon witnessed Bonnie becoming smaller and smaller until she was a dot shadowed in darkness. She was hiding or leaving or doing both and he wanted to stop her but he didn't know how.

He watched as she headed toward the door, hesitated before opening it, and then Bonnie was gone.

"Fuck!" he cursed and planted his hands on his hips, bit into his lip.

Damon wasn't alone for more than a minute to process anything before Elena was standing in front of him, a perturbed expression drawing her brows together.

The thoughts in Elena's head had been whispering in her ear all day. She may have Damon's attention, he may smile at her in a way that made butterflies rush in her stomach, and he might make her scream for more in between panting his name, but there was a vital piece of Damon she didn't possess. And whatever that piece was, Elena now understood who owned it.

She framed his face in a strategic move to capture his gaze, but Damon wasn't mentally in the room. Elena was worried about Bonnie, didn't know how to help her and from the bits of conversation she had listened to, she wasn't one of Bonnie's favorite people at the moment. Elena figured she should be upset and affronted, but she wasn't. A mad witch was a dangerous witch, and flashes of what she and Bonnie had done to one another at prom made her cringe. They came close to killing one another. Elena certainly didn't want things to ever deteriorate or get that bad between them ever again.

For too long she had only lived to do the things which made her happy while disregarding everything else.

Damon was probably the only one who could honestly help Bonnie or she'd permit to help her. Therefore she had to do this in order to help Bonnie. Closing her eyes, Elena would do something possibly uncharacteristic for her and incredibly selfless.

"She needs you, Damon," she said softly.

He looked at Elena as if finally becoming aware of her presence. "She needs all of us."

"No," Elena refuted, "it's just_ you_ she needs. I know Bonnie despite the way I've acted in the past and…she loves you."

The color drained out of Damon. Here was the girl he ripped a town apart to be with, ruined his relationship with his brother to love freely, and she was telling him her best friend loved him?

"And I know you love her, too."

"El—"

"—it's _you_ she spent four months playing board games with, talking to for hours, _missing. _You were the first person she wanted to see and did when she came back. It was you she had a suicide pact with. She was going to kill herself using your car. She remained at the boardinghouse when she could have gone anywhere else in the world. You have a connection with Bonnie that the rest of us doesn't. _Use _it to help her. I…I won't get in the way."

"What are you saying?"

Dropping her hold on his cheek, Elena inhaled deeply. "We're friends, Damon and that's all we can be right now. Bonnie is my best friend and I need her to remember that and believe it and she won't if I'm the one who's always screwing up her life, which I have. So…love her, be with her, be whatever she needs."

Damon said nothing but whatever he was thinking was advertised in the furrow of his brow and the downturned corners of his mouth.

"Why do I feel like you're pimping me out or something?" he prodded. "I know I'm often referred to as a gigolo but I'm not a real gigolo. You want to call it quits to what we're trying to rebuild so I can do _what_ with Bonnie?"

The sharp quality of Damon's tone sliced down Elena's spine and she barely resisted wilting right in front of him. She held her ground.

"Damon…that's not what I'm trying to do. Look," she stopped speaking for a moment as a memory came to her. "Once you said…if it came down to me or Bonnie, you'd pick me every time. I'm asking you not to do that. Pick her, choose her."

"I was trying to impress you when I said that."

"I figured as much," Elena murmured fondly.

"I'm supposed to let you go…_again_?"

Smiling sadly, Elena leaned forward and pressed her mouth against Damon's, feeling that spark, that flutter deep in her womb that warmed her from fingers to toes. She'd miss it, but if no matter what she had gone through in life…if those roads always led back to Damon then one day they'd be together. For now she could let go and trust their feelings would be enough, sustain their precarious relationship.

_Bonnie needs him_, Elena decided would become her mantra.

Pulling away, she offered him one more smile. "Something tells me we'll always be connected. Hold on to that."

And like Bonnie, Elena was gone.

* * *

Bonnie took a shallow breath as she watched Kai's facial muscles twitch. He was asleep or doing a terrible rendition of sleeping. She had had him under the control of her binding spell for eight hours straight. She should have been drained, lethargic, but she was unnaturally alert, cognizant of everything down the pulse of the ground the boardinghouse had been built on.

Her talk with Damon changed nothing. Her insides were still hollow, inert. Bonnie questioned if she had shut off her humanity because the things that otherwise would make her soul tremble she found herself wanting to applaud.

She kicked Kai right between the legs. He woke up gasping and lurching forward.

"Bitch," he seethed.

"I called your sister. She's coming to get you and hopefully push you off the top of a very tall building."

Cricking his neck, again Kai made an attempt to move and couldn't budge one inch. "Being bad…it suits you, Bonnie. Granted my eyesight is pretty much shot I have the impression you look smokin' hot."

"I'm done now."

"You sure? I figured what you did to me last night or two days ago or however long it's been was nothing but the warm up," he leered tauntingly.

Bonnie cleared what space separated her from Kai, bent at the waist and grabbed his jaw, clenching it painfully. "I can break your neck, but…I'm not a killer. I'm going to show you what you failed to show me."

"And that would be? I failed to show you _a lot_ of things. Mainly what I'm packing in my shorts."

Slamming the back of his head into the chair, Bonnie sucked her teeth and moved away from him. She stared at Kai and began chanting. He sat as far back as he could as if that would stop whatever Bonnie was gearing up to do him.

She felt the presence of death, identified that presence as Damon who Bonnie ignored and continued chanting Latin. The air grew thick with magic, heavy with it.

The center of Kai's chest…no deeper than that, not his body or even his blood, but the matter which composed of his soul began burning. "What…" he laughed nervously, "what are you doing, Bonnie? Hun? _WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING_?"

A litany of emotions, some Kai only knew viscerally thanks to devouring Luke were being augmented, expanded, encompassing the parts of him that were void, empty. Fear, helplessness, empathy, anxiety, self-consciousness, regret—regret was probably the worst, all those emotions were pummeling him. Knocking him around, slapping him back and forth, pushing and pulling him that a flood of that wet substance…what had Elena called it again? Tears, right, those were running unchecked down his sweat stained cheeks.

"STOP IT! I DON'T WANT TO…stop," Kai begged pitifully.

Bonnie held her hand out toward Kai, palm braced upward. Damon watched from the threshold curious about what she was doing, what was happening. A white mist of some sort began to swirl out of her pores it seemed and converged over her open palm. Her eyes burned emerald as she repeated the same phrase over and over again, speaking faster until it was just a blend of syllables, vowels, and constantans that echoed as if a choir of people were repeating after Bonnie.

She thrust her hand out and the ball of mist flew and hit Kai dead center in the chest. He flailed around; his neck snapping back and forth almost like a Pez dispenser and then stilled.

Lowering her palm, Bonnie approached Kai who looked petrified beyond imagining.

Bonnie tilted his head up and smiled down at him, but that smile was filled with malice. "Welcome to the selfless brotherhood, Kai. Remember, don't go falling on your sword for any ole body."

"You…" Kai couldn't finish his sentence because his mind kept wondering if there was someone out there who needed his help, needed saving and he had to be there. Now. Right this second. "Bitch…" and as soon as that word left his mouth he wanted to apologize. "Sorry."

Bonnie giggled, waved her hand over Kai officially releasing him. He slumped forward and then landed face first on the rug. She finally brought her gaze to Damon who looked notably proud.

"If you're done," Damon said, "wanna watch a movie?"

Shrugging, Bonnie replied, "Sure."

* * *

Damon wanted to say he was surprised by Bonnie's choice, _300 _but he wasn't. What he witnessed her doing to Kai, effectively giving him a soul or conscience, her revenge on him had the most beautiful symmetry that killing the little pipsqueak actually would have been doing him a favor.

Once Jo and Alaric arrived to cart Kai somewhere else, Stefan had gone on another search for Caroline with Elena tagging along. The boardinghouse became noticeably quiet and tension-filled. Bonnie wouldn't make direct eye contact with him even after he suggested they stay in and waste time by watching the tube.

Damon didn't believe Bonnie knew anything about Elena's wish for him to essentially get closer to her. He was positive if Bonnie did know she wouldn't have agreed and wouldn't be with him. He could be impaled on a chair, in fact. Charity was the last thing Bonnie would accept and Damon didn't see her as a charity case.

She was his friend.

Placing a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, Damon remained at a loss as to how Elena wanted him to help Bonnie. _"…love her, be with her…" _was she expecting him to start a relationship with the witch? Wasn't that a bit extreme? And Bonnie didn't need a boyfriend so much as she needed someone to show they really did care about her well-being, her existence. That he could provide, but nothing else.

Nevertheless, until some semblance of the young witch he knew reappeared, his relationship with Elena was on hold. He supposed he should have been pissed off she'd make that kind of decision and expect him to go along with it without question. That was Elena's MO after all. Made a snap decision and left everyone else to deal with it. He was that way too, but…

Throwing surreptitious glances at Bonnie spending time with her wouldn't mount of feeling like a chore.

"Face it," she was saying, "those fight scenes are _the _best and I loved the love story between Leonidas and Gorgo. It was enough to make you sigh, but didn't overshadow the point of the movie."

"Something tells me you just want to ogle Gerard Butler's ass," Damon quipped.

Bonnie moved around the pillows on the couch but threw Damon an annoyed look. She ended up shrugging. Seeing _300 _for the first time Bonnie had walked out of the movie theater with a major lady boner for the Scot. Sue her.

Flinging herself on the couch, Bonnie reached for the bowl of popcorn and leaned to the side or otherwise Damon would have sat right on top of her. They sat shoulder to shoulder and she wondered why he was sitting so close. Clearing her throat, Bonnie nudged Damon away, but of course he didn't move.

Aggravating the witch was a favorite pastime of Damon's, he smiled then cued up the movie.

Their orbs were filled with blood, gore, pecks, leather Speedos, tits, slow motion fight sequences; a visual masterpiece.

Damon moved a bit on the couch when the infamous love scene beamed into his eyes. He kept his thoughts and his hands far away from the young woman sitting next to him. In his long life he had seen more hardcore sex scenes than that, but there was a level of sensuality that was hard to overlook based purely on the actors' chemistry and the way the scene was shot. Damon couldn't help but wonder what Bonnie was thinking as they watched Leonidas bang his wife.

For some strange reason he wondered if she had ever been made love to like that.

Damon shook his head. Don't even go there.

"So who put you up to this?" Bonnie questioned and licked butter and salt off her fingers.

"What makes you think anyone had to twist my arm to get me to watch a movie with you?"

"I've been back for three weeks. We've seen one another but really only in passing. Your days are filled with Elena and so are your nights. It was her…wasn't it? She wants you to babysit me."

"Do you need a babysitter because if you do I can call up Donovan? I'm not a manny."

Bonnie laughed. "You're being evasive which means this was Elena's idea."

"We're worried about you, Bonnie but you know I'm the only one you actually don't mind being around."

She angled her head to stare at Damon's profile. "How do you figure that?"

"The fact you easily agreed to watch a movie with me for one. Two, I'm still alive. Three, you want something from me but you believe I'm not ready to give it to you. Does that answer your question?"

She appeared to be mulling over his words but Damon knew Bonnie wasn't deciding if he were trustworthy or not. She sat the bowl of popcorn aside and shifted on the couch until she faced him. The sound of swords clashing, men shouting, and music playing filled the quiet air between them.

Damon didn't know what happened, how he ended up on the floor with Bonnie on top of him, her hand wrapped around his throat, but he was on the floor with a very vicious Bonnie straddling him.

He choked out, "Bonnie what the hell are you doing?"

"Do you think I'm something that needs to be fixed, Damon? Am I a project for you to put back together and once you're done you'll be heading off into the sunset with Elena? Are you on loan?" she leaned down to the point their noses almost touched, "I don't need your fucking pity."

Grabbing her by the arms, Damon flipped their positions and it was she who was on the floor and her neck in his grasp now. Anger flashed in her retinas. That he could deal with. Anger, rage emotions that had been some of his greatest companions, but they didn't look right on Bonnie.

"You have every right to be pissed and if you need to take it out on something…take it out on me. I allowed myself to get sidetracked with bullshit, Bonnie. I should have…I don't know…found some way to make you come with me. I…even when I believed you were dead I should have come back... for your body. I shouldn't have just left you there in that cave. You deserved that much, but I…I got caught up in pointless drama and you should have been my priority way before I found Ms. Cuddles outside of my family crypt."

Bonnie and Damon inhaled and exhaled in unity but she shoved him off of her and sat up. "I don't want to talk about any of this anymore. You can go back to Elena. I don't need you to hold my hand."

"I'm a grown man, not a child and _I'll _be the one to decide who I spend time with. Not you. Not Elena. No one. You're stuck me so get used to it," Damon quickly shot to his feet and stomped out of the parlor.

Running a fidgety hand through his hair, Damon walked down the corridor wanting a drink and to get lost in his room. He heard Bonnie speeding behind him, but he ignored her and right when he was about to make a sharp left into the living room to head to his decanters filled with bourbon, he was pulled backwards and slammed into a wall. That hit was jarring, he would admit, and his vision may have blurred for a moment, but it cleared.

Bonnie stood in front of him and Damon waited for her to say something, curse him out some more, accuse him of crimes he already confessed to. He didn't mind being labeled as a bad guy, an asshole, a dick because he was those things, but there was more to him and Bonnie had seen that more. Sure he talked too much, more than he should at times, and he could stand to be a little nicer to the people he deemed worthy enough to be his friends, but he wasn't going to turn himself into her doormat or whipping boy. Fuck that, he had pride and limits, too.

Wait…hadn't he just propositioned Bonnie to take her anger out on him? Damon shook his muddled head. The things he said in the heat of the moment.

"Look if you're going to cuss me out let's just get it over…"

His words were cut off by Bonnie pressing her index finger against his lips.

Contriteness flittered across her face. "I'm sorry, Damon. You're being a genuine friend to me and…that's exactly what I need. Someone who cares."

"I do."

"I believe you. But please, be around me because you want to and not because someone _asked_ you."

Saying nothing further, Bonnie made her way back to parlor to finish watching the movie alone.

* * *

She disappeared leaving no clue as to her whereabouts. Locator spells were useless, and he was about a day away from requesting the Sheriff's department to break out the cadaver dogs to pick up any trace of her scent his heightened sense of smell couldn't detect. His calls went unanswered; he was having a conversation with himself through text. Bonnie seemingly fell off the face of the planet.

Caroline was still being difficult and threatening to blast Stefan's chest full of wood if he didn't get off her ass. Ironic since she wanted him to be on her ass like a tic.

Damon's ass was currently warming his favorite stool at the bar in Mystic Grill. He didn't understand why people kept flocking here on account of how many times it's either blown up or caught on fire. He snorted and realized he was no different than the cattle mooing throughout the place. Bad things could be set aside and omitted from national record. Tragedy wouldn't stop the populace from getting their beers and burgers it seemed.

His thoughts returned to Bonnie. Her behavior the last night he saw her. She acted nothing like herself and as Damon examined the evidence more closely realization hit him.

Putting him a chokehold…throwing him up against the wall…those were things _he _had done. Those were behaviors he exhibited to those who irked their way under his skin, or he wanted to illustrate who carried more gravitas.

"Shit, she's turning into me," Damon was tragically bemused. He guzzled more alcohol.

Next thing Damon became aware of was Elena's raspy voice. Looking over his shoulder he saw her talking into her cell phone. Damon went back to his drinking and poured a shot for her knowing she'd mosey her way to him at some point.

Like clockwork, Elena wove her way through the bustling crowd and arrived next to him. Wordlessly she tossed back the shot and slipped out of her pea coat.

"Hey."

"What's up?" Damon threw back his shot and reloaded his glass.

"Still haven't heard anything from Bonnie?"

"Nope."

Elena rubbed his shoulder as she made herself comfortable on the stool. "What's the last thing she said to you before she disappeared?"

"Oh you know us…we got into an argument but she apologized for getting too rough with her toy," he grinned sardonically.

"Damon," Elena began in a reproaching manner.

"She pretty much saw through the plan to help her as if she were looking through glass. But hopefully she believes that despite everything…she is my friend and I do want to help her."

"I'm sure Bonnie knows that. She's…she's just hurting. Bonnie internalizes a lot of what she goes through. Maybe she needed a few days to clear her head. You said she did something to Kai?"

Damon bobbed his head. "I don't know what but he hasn't shown up wanting to skin her alive. I think…Bonnie may have given him some of her do-gooder essence. Whatever part of her that drives her to go above and beyond for us losers."

Before Elena could retort about being called a loser, an arm was wrapped around her neck and Damon's, and she was pulled sideways into the person who had wedged themselves between her and her ex.

"Isn't it Mystic Falls' _epic_ power couple."

"Bonnie!" said couple spoke in unison, surprise peppering their voices.

Bonnie released them both with a smirk on her face that wasn't unpleasant but definitely carried a secret. Damon looked her over. She appeared the same. Had done nothing drastic with her hair, makeup, or clothing, yet Damon knew something about Bonnie had changed. The energy around her was…indescribable but the vibe was chilly.

"Where have you been?" Damon practically growled.

The grin on Bonnie's face widened into an ear splitting smile. He could say she was glowing, yet the picture was disconcerting.

"Wouldn't you like to know? When I disappear…don't look for me. You won't have to because…" Bonnie slid closer to Damon, "all roads lead back to _you, _right?" she winked at Elena who stiffened.

The estranged couple traded glances.

"Bonnie can we talk…for a minute?" Elena petitioned.

"What do you have to say to me?"

"Can we get a table?"

"No."

"Oh…um...well…are you okay?"

Bonnie looked over her person before staring unblinkingly at her once-upon-time best friend. "I'm fine."

"Cut the act, Bonnie," Damon butted in. "You've been gone for a week and you come back all smiling and winking and shit," he half rose off the stool and grabbed Bonnie's arm pulling her closer, "Where the _fuck_ were you?"

She sighed, "The third degree…" Bonnie turned to Elena who merely sat there gaping like a fish out of water. "How did you put up with this for years?" she wiggled out of Damon's punishing hold and glowered at him.

A glower he returned.

"The whole bitchy routine was cute when Elena did it. Caroline is still annoying even with her humanity off, but following in their footsteps, Bonnie, tsk, I expected better."

"Did you?" she traced his jaw with her nails. "What did you expect? Me crying on your shoulder talking about how horrible life is? I've done that. Now…I'm _all _about feeling. And I plan to start with that guy in the far right corner."

Damon peered over the top of Bonnie's head and saw some douche that was probably ten years _too_ old for Bonnie.

Elena appraised the guy. He was dressed in a black button down shirt that was open at the color, a tweed vest, and a durable pair of jeans. He had black hair like Damon, umber eyes. He was Hispanic, Elena could tell and _very _good looking.

"Don't wait up for me," Bonnie wiggled her fingers and slinked away.

Elena wanted to cheer Bonnie on however she couldn't get over the way her friend had ran her nails along Damon's jaw. And it hadn't escaped her he lightly shuddered at Bonnie's touch. Nor could Elena ignore the way the air surrounding them had crackled with heat and something akin to electricity.

Standing on the sidelines while the dynamic between Bonnie and Damon changed wasn't going to be as easy as Elena had hoped it'd be.

To be continued. Maybe.

**A/N: I don't know what the writers are intending to do with Bonnie, how they're going to explore her PTSD. But if it took Stefan banging Katherine to get rid of his…*devious smile* here's to hoping they take the same route with Bonnie and use Damon as her guinea pig. Unlikely to happen but whatevs. Now, I'm breaking this up in 2 parts. This is part 1 forgot to mention that earlier. Part 2 can come but only if there's a desire for it. And I'm talking the same kind of desire when it comes to watching the Bamon Hug of Epic a million times. If not, I'm more than content to leave things as they are. I'll let y'all decide. Nonetheless, thanks for reading!**


	9. Bamon-Subtext

**A/N: Part 2 (sigh) there's gonna have to be a part 3 because I can't stop my brain from thinking and I need steps to get where I'm going with this. Don't know how you'll feel about this one-shot but eh, blame my muse. Thank you for reviewing last chappie! Keep 'em coming. **

Disclaimer: These characters belong to LJ Smith/CW Network. Gideon Cordova belongs to moi. No copyright infringement is not intended.

* * *

**Today…**

"You want to know the beautiful thing about enchantments? It's not the corresponding action that follows, it's the words themselves. Complex. Intricate. A woven linguistic symphony of cadence and balance. Hard and soft sounds. The syntax of the language itself makes it beautiful. Words are power, and words written on paper have proven to change the course of history. Sometimes for the worst but most times for the better. Or it's the held belief by the author. But really it's all about implementation.

"When I speak it's with thought. I can toss out any string of words to get my point across, but it depends on the words _themselves_ to get me the desired effects I want. If they're powerful enough they will be heeded. Speak one word too many can ruin an entire argument, cause chaos and discord, or bring harmony.

"The thing is, the words that we speak today…what are their root origins? Where do we get words like apology and study and medicine from? Most words either originate from Latin or Greek words, right?

"I've gotten so good at speaking that I can weave a spell while I'm telling you about the weather, and you wouldn't know it until your blood turns to acid and leaks out of every orifice you possess. Now I'm sure you're thinking that in order for a spell to truly be effective it needs power, a source in which to draw its energy from to be viable. You would be right. Here's a secret…all I've ever needed to do magic was one breath of oxygen and a beating heart. That's it. Now…"

Bonnie sat down in front of the vampire who was curled up on the ground, inky black hair matted to his bloody forehead. He stared up at her through his dense eyelashes.

"…what do you have to say for yourself, asshole?"

* * *

**Four days ago…**

The middle of March brought the first snow of the year. Seven inches probably the most that's ever accumulated and brought the town to a screeching halt. It coated trees like powdered sugar on sweetened delicacies, buried lawn furniture. Perilous looking icicles hung from gutters and tree branches and roof awnings. The world was frozen for the first time since she was perhaps a child, and Bonnie Bennett inhaled the sharp, crisp air taking everything in.

She stood on the backyard patio of the boardinghouse burrowing her face in the high collar of her fashionable jacket. A gift from Stefan, a belated birthday gift that is. He had looked uncertain when he presented the gift wrapped box to Bonnie; a little bashful, yet hopeful she wouldn't char her present right in front of his face or outright reject it without finding out what it was first. Her slender fingers ripped through cellophane and tissue paper to unearth the fur bomber jacket that brought a huge smile to her face. Bonnie had never owned anything so expensive outside of her car.

Her hands were buried deep inside her jacket at the moment as her eyes passed over endless yards of untouched snow. If someone were to glance her way right this second they'd think she wasn't looking at anything in particular. But they would miss the way her head shifted a little once she spotted what appeared to be a white tail rabbit hopping over the snow covered grounds searching for food. Or a good place to make some babies.

The air was cold enough for her breath to be seen as curling mist rushing from her nostrils and partially opened mouth. And other than her skintight jeans and heeled boots Bonnie was completely exposed to the elements.

She didn't mind it though.

A grin, and not the shy kind of grin or the naughty kind of grin, but a knowing kind of grin began to stretch one corner of her crooked mouth to the next.

Two nights ago she had been the object of scrutiny. Damon Salvatore couldn't seem to get enough of throwing her furtive looks or scrunching up his face as if he smelled or tasted something foul while she had been on her date with Gideon Cordova. The divot almost sinkhole crease between his brow, slight curl to his lip were visible cues of his discomfort but nothing Bonnie hadn't seen before. She had caught that look when Damon interrupted her tonguing down Jamie, which now she could admit was an error on her part. He made that face when Kai flirted with her shamelessly and because she was bored and it had been a while since any guy outwardly showed an interest in her, Bonnie ate it up and played along. Several times when he accidentally walked in on her and Jeremy, Damon wore that face of utter distaste. She really had no idea what his deal was. Was the idea of a guy being attracted to her or showing her affection that repulsive to him, or was it something else?

You'd think she was his girlfriend and not the chick that had been seated beside him at the bar giving Damon hopeless moon eyes by how hard he grilled her. But no matter what part of the restaurant she and Gideon occupied, Damon's attention was sure to be rapt on them. He never came over, never approached, but he guzzled shot after shot appearing more agitated and unsettled as the night wore on.

When Bonnie returned to the boardinghouse in the wee hours of the morning, Damon had been sitting in the living room but didn't say anything. Merely rose to his feet, stretched his arms over his head and finally went up to his room to sleep. As morning shifted to afternoon, he joined her in the kitchen but again said nothing, his silence nonplussing.

Bonnie didn't understand his behavior or why Damon cared. But it was interesting to say the least. "What do you want with me?" she asked aloud.

The crunch of snow caught her ear but Bonnie didn't twist to see who was joining her. The scent of his cologne supplied the answer. He sidled right next to her and Bonnie stared at him askance.

"Got damn snow," Damon muttered irritably.

"He speaks," Bonnie mocked.

Damon turned a little to regard her and snorted. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact you haven't said much to me in the last two days."

"We have gone longer without speaking even while living under the same roof in that prison hell world."

"And that was because you had a bug up your ass. I couldn't ask you a simple question like 'where's the toilet paper?' without you blowing up at me."

"And yet…you kept coming back for more. Didn't stop seeking me out."

"I was insane, clearly. Desperate to make a connection with the only other living, breathing thing on the planet. Excuse-fucking-me."

A brisk current of heat rushed over Damon that unmistakably didn't come from a spike in temperature but from the sprite next to him. Warily eyeing Bonnie, Damon hunched a shoulder and decided it was best to tread lightly for the next five minutes. Until her playful mood returned and their snark was more good-natured and wouldn't lead to a physical altercation.

"They were out of my favorite brand of tampons," Damon said. "I can get a little crabby if it's not double leakage protection."

Bonnie's lips twitched but she glared contemptuously at the vampire. "Is that a sexist joke you just made? I'd recommend you _don't_."

"Fine," Damon conceded this round and released the breath he had been holding when he caught a hint of a smile from the witch. "So…" he embellished the word, "taking in the snow?"

"It's more than obvious since I'm standing out here."

"Let's build a snowman."

"Not in these boots."

Damon glanced down at said boots. Black. Leather. Knee high. Five-inch gold plated heels. Fucking hot. He couldn't help the fact his eyes trailed up the length of Bonnie's legs, taking in the tightness of her jeans and the way her ass protruded outward and curved sinuously to the dip in her spine. He quickly turned his eyes away.

Bonnie had watched him ogled her figure but wore no discernible expression. "Why are you finally speaking to me?"

"Maybe…I missed…talking to you or something," Damon forced a cough.

"You're full of shit."

_Not when it comes to you. _"I can't disagree."

"Are you still spying on me for The Syndicate?" a corner of Bonnie's eye narrowed.

Damon chuckled, "No, the Ministry of Magic."

Again, Bonnie's pouty lips twitched. "Ass. So how many hours of your time do I get today?"

"Come again?"

"Are you available now until two this afternoon...?"

"I feel like you're being sarcastic and not in a funny way, but in the annoying asking-to-get-your-neck-snapped way. We've had this discussion before."

"Yes, and I'm curious if anything has changed."

Damon showed no outward sign to the bite that was plainly heard in Bonnie's words. He practically growled, "I cleared my entire schedule today just so I can piss you off."

A very brisk wind almost blew them both sideways.

"See, there's the Damon I know."

"Whatever. Come on, judgy," Damon grabbed Bonnie's hand and tugged her forward. "Let's replay moments from our childhood and horse around in the snow."

"Damon," Bonnie whined but followed.

She yelped after they cleared the steps and her foot sank way past the ankle in fluffy snow. Bonnie hadn't been expecting that, but Damon's hold on her hand prevented her from falling. She glanced up at him and saw the unmitigated mirth dancing in his eyes making the color more brilliant than the sky above their heads. Something strange fluttered in her stomach that was not unfamiliar to Bonnie, but it wasn't a sensation she had ever experienced while being in Damon's presence.

Well, she should amend that as they tracked farther in the snow, putting distance between themselves and the house. When she learned his secret after he attacked her, bludgeoned her neck, ripping through skin and tendons to ruthlessly drink her blood, being alone with Damon standing in the same room with him had been…Bonnie had been terrified. He could do anything to her at any given moment and her powers were hardly developed, were weak in comparison to someone who had been alive for close to two centuries.

But her fear, her terror, Bonnie packaged it and stored it away and focused on her goal. Getting stronger, becoming powerful enough to defend herself and to stop a monster like Damon right in his tracks.

If the old her could see herself now, holding Damon's hand, frolicking around in the snow, an activity so innocent it was almost absurd considering who he was, Bonnie would probably call her a damn lunatic.

Or maybe applaud her for taming such a predator.

This time Bonnie did shriek, a chilling sound that echoed and scared a pack of birds that squawked at the disturbance to their tranquility. She hopped around frantically reaching behind her to dig for the blob of packed snow that was shoved down the back of her shirt courtesy of…

"DAMON!"

The immortal was bent over laughing but his giggles were cut off abruptly when a huge ball of snow smacked him dead center in the face. He spat out fragments of the snowball and glowered at Bonnie who stood some feet away looking sickeningly pleased with herself.

Damon took one step forward, dipped his head to where his chin was almost touching his chest, but his eyes stayed glued on his prey. "That was unwise."

"Looked pretty ingenious from where I'm stand—"

The words were snatched out of Bonnie as she was jerked backwards, feet taking flight. When she landed with a thud, a very heavy body was on top of her.

"I. Can't. Believe. You. Just. Tackled. Me."

Damon grinned, "You gotta stay on your to—" and the next thing he knew he was sailing backwards through the air, legs kicking, arms flailing around. And unlike the snow breaking Bonnie's fall, a nice beech tree broke his. "Holy. Shit."

Growling, Damon snapped to his feet. Bonnie pushed herself up slowly, fluidly like a rose breaking through concrete. He blinked to clear the analogy from his mind and mindlessly charged forward. So did Bonnie.

Inside the house Stefan heard a strange noise. It sounded like laughter—more specifically it sounded like _Damon's _laughter. That couldn't be right. Damon didn't laugh and when he did whatever or whoever he was laughing at knew they were being mocked. Head cocking to the side to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating, Stefan zoomed his way to the back of the house and slowed his steps once the picture unfolding before him made sense.

Bonnie and Damon were rolling around on the snow trying to outdo the other, pin the other down, but not making much leeway in their quest to get the other to submit. Stefan folded his arms over his chest, head shaking because he couldn't quite believe his eyes. The sight was…disturbingly wholesome if he had to name it precisely. Coupled with his brother's infectious laughter and Bonnie's squeals that gave way to low giggles, for a small second envy colored Stefan's orbs. He could vaguely remember how it felt to be that carefree.

Bonnie was on her back, her jeans soaked, hair ruined, and her poor fur drenched and probably imitating a drowned rat, but she didn't care about any of that. Damon thought he had won the battle but he was sure on his way to losing the war.

"Surrender, judgy. I literally have the high ground."

"Do you?" Bonnie stared at him peculiarly but didn't give him a chance to answer. She wrapped her left leg around Damon momentarily catching him off guard. His eyes widened as well as his mouth but no sound followed. Using his distracted state against him, Bonnie flipped their positions, grabbed a fist full of snow, lit it, and brought that burning ball of frozen ice into view. "Concede!"

Damon's gaze switched from the ball of fire to the twin flames simmering in Bonnie's eyes. Lifting two fingers in the air, Bonnie spied the ancient Roman signal for mercy.

Bonnie let the fireball roll out of her hand but she didn't move off of Damon.

"You cheated," Damon said at length.

"Using tactical forces to subdue a formidable enemy…nothing written in the rules about that."

"Oh really?" Damon subtly wrapped his arms around Bonnie's waist who tensed at the unexpected contact. He was up and on his feet bringing Bonnie with him. "Time to see if this witch can fly."

"What?"

She was thrown. Up towards the sky.

Bonnie was flying and screaming at the top of her lungs. And then an interesting thing happened. For just a single second she was suspended in the air where she was balanced perfectly on an invisible wire before the inevitable fall. Bonnie could say that moment was nirvana. The love child of serenity and bliss something of which she had gone a long time without feeling. For that reason alone, Bonnie didn't want to come back down because to come back down meant suffocating.

Gravity worked its magic and snatched her back to the earth that was getting closer and closer the faster she fell. Her stomach lurched, her ability to breathe stopped altogether, and Bonnie could do nothing but fall like a hundred and twenty-five pound snowflake.

She let out a "Oomph," when Damon caught her by the hips, her feet dangling several inches off the ground, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

Her eyes were pinched shut and she refused to open them. Not even when Damon slid her along his body and she could feel the earth under her boots.

"Bonnie?"

The young woman in question sank her teeth into her bottom lip and still her eyes refused to open. Vertigo was attacking her from every side imaginable leaving Bonnie with no idea on when the earth would stop spinning, or feel like she was no longer falling. One of her fears was heights. So being tossed in the air like a weightless ball and then plummeting to the ground without a parachute or harness—she could really kick Damon's ass right now.

Bonnie flinched when said vampire's cold hand touched her cheek in an attempt to lasso her from her own morbid thoughts.

The loss of control, she didn't like it.

Damon got the feeling he went too far. Bonnie wasn't saying anything. Her heart was pounding, and though she was clutching him, he could feel her trembling.

"I'm sorry…"

"S'okay," Bonnie finally said and opened her eyes. She let out a shaky breath and let go of Damon who kept his hands pressing almost urgently on her hips.

"You sure because you look a little pale?"

"Well I didn't expect to be tossed like a graduation cap to the sky," Bonnie glowered.

Damon smiled and tucked errant strands of her hair behind her ear. "Come on, let's go for a stroll so you can walk this off."

Stefan watched until they began heading towards the forest that lined the property. He slinked back into the house, bemused.

Bonnie and Damon moved silently through the woods taking in the trees. Some of them were completely encased in ice. Seasons, Bonnie had missed experiencing summer, fall, but she could enjoy the last visages of winter before spring arrived in the next few weeks. She didn't know how she might act once May 10th rolled around. Maybe she could sleep the entire day away, skip it.

"Why do you that?" Bonnie said suddenly.

Damon arched a brow. "Do what?"

"Make faces like you're constipated whenever you see me with another guy? Why do you that?"

"I…wasn't aware my face did anything on those _rare _occasions you are with a guy."

Rolling eyes her, Bonnie sank her hands in her pockets. "Well you do and I'd like to know why?"

"Considering whom I've seen you with you expect anyone to keep a straight face?"

Annoyance burned within Bonnie that she wasn't shy in displaying. "If anything I'd say you were jealous but that's crazy because why would you be jealous? I'm far from being your type."

Jealous? Jealousy? Over Bonnie Bennett—well over the guys Bonnie Bennett had given her attention to, used her charms on, kissed, did things Damon painstakingly tried not to imagine? No, NO of course he wasn't jealous. Why would he be? His life would always be far more interesting than hers, wilder, filthier, sexier. Those were facts. Until recently, a stick stuck in mud could put Bonnie Bennett to shame. She had looks and body for days, yes, even he couldn't deny that, but Damon had never been jealous.

Of course he could confess to being a little bothered she had been attracted to guys who were so beneath her ilk she almost appeared to be doing community service when out and about with them. That was the extent of it. What bothered him were the guys themselves and how they didn't measure up in any respect to someone like Bonnie. That she was wasting herself. That was it.

Bonnie waited for Damon to say something but from the contemplative look on his face he was deep in thought. Nodding at nothing in particular, Bonnie abruptly stopped walking, pivoted around, and began heading back to the house.

Damon may have ambled another ten yards before realizing Bonnie wasn't keeping stride beside him. When he turned around she had already cleared the forest and had made it back on Salvatore grounds. He easily caught up with her.

"Where are you headed off to so fast, witchy? You didn't give me a chance to answer."

"It's all right, Damon. I don't even know why I asked in the first place."

"Do you want to hear my answer or not?"

"It doesn't matter."

Now Damon was getting pissed. He grabbed Bonnie by the arm and made her stop walking. She stumbled in her heels but righted herself. "Don't do that. I hate it when you do that. If something is bothering you, you never want to talk about it. Stop downplaying and making yourself small!"

Bonnie sighed, "I'm merely guarding myself, Damon."

"You don't have to do that with me."

"Yes…yes I do."

They locked gazes but neither spoke a word.

"The reason I make whatever faces you've seen me make, Bonnie is…I don't think there's anyone good enough for you. No one has been good enough to touch you…"

"You're touching me," Bonnie pointed out.

Damon averted his gaze downward and sure enough his hand was wrapped around her arm, but he still didn't let go. "I'm the exception obviously."

"Why? Why should you be?"

"Because we're friends and..."

"And?"

"We understand each other better than anyone else does."

Bonnie's head canted to the side, "You think you know me?"

"I happen to be an authority on all things Bonnie Bennett."

"All right so tell me why my mouth was all over Gideon's, the guy you saw me with at the Grill the other night."

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

Damon's hand reflexively tightened on Bonnie's limb, but he let go. He was feeling slightly uncomfortable but didn't understand the reasoning behind his unease. Dissecting human behavior had been a favorite hobby of his, but he made it a point not to do it with Bonnie. Maybe out of misplaced respect for her privacy or something, but Damon was willing to chalk it up to not caring at all.

"You like him," Damon said frankly. "And your mushy feelings for him led you to kissing him."

Bonnie smirked, "Go deeper, Damon."

His brain short circuited after Bonnie uttered those words. "What?"

"Go. Deeper."

Heat flared on the back of Damon's neck. "No, because no matter what I say you'll only refute and I can go waste my breath somewhere else," he sniffed and started heading toward the house.

"Difficult to the bone," Bonnie looped her arm with Damon's.

He glanced down at her and for a moment Damon felt as if he were transported back to the times were taking a lady for a stroll was a sign of courtship. He cleared his throat and his mind of such thoughts.

Later on that same day the book Damon had been skimming almost fell out of his hands as something dawned on him.

"_I'm far from being your type."_

Damon bit back a curse.

* * *

Warm water sluiced down her back as she rung out her long chestnut locks. Elena Gilbert swiped a hand across the frosted mirror and examined her blurred reflection. Lately she had begun to look tired, rundown despite being frozen at eighteen. There were creases under her eyes, eyes that use to glow auburn brown but were closer to expresso. The corners of her mouth were starting to bend into a permanent frown line. Her olive skin was still sun kissed making her the envy of those who relied on tanning beds and sprays to achieve what she had naturally, but other than that she didn't look…otherworldly.

Sighing, she reached for her hairbrush but paused because she knew someone was standing in her bedroom. Wrapping a towel around her frame, Elena threw open the door hoping to see Caroline but dreading it might be Kai instead.

"Hey," she rasped when the person turned out to be Damon. "What are you doing here?"

Damon pushed away from the wall he had been holding up. He had been spending way too much time thinking about a girl that he wasn't in love with, and he needed to change it. Turn things around before he got lost in translation. Elena "leasing" him out to her distraught friend, who was also his friend too—a fact she seemed to keep forgetting may have been seen as admirable, but Damon needed a break to screw his head back on straight. Things were beginning not to make sense to him.

"I wanted to see you," Damon reached for Elena waiting for the usual rush of anticipation to sink him like a ship. Waited for the jump of his dick once her lithe body was pressed against his.

"Shouldn't you be with…"

"Don't…don't say her name. She's fine and I miss you, Elena. This staying away from each other is a waste of fucking time, and weren't _you_ the one to say life was too short, dumb considering we're immortal."

The doppelganger pursed her lips and leaned backwards in Damon's hold to establish a neutral zone. "Did something happen between you and Bonnie? Did you get into a fight?"

Moaning in aggravation, Damon tore away from Elena. "I'm not here because of fucking Bonnie!"

Actually that was a lie, probably the biggest one Damon told all day, but his estranged girlfriend or whatever she was calling herself this week didn't need to know that.

Taken aback by his outburst, Elena tightened the knot in the towel. "Maybe you should go and sort out whatever's crawled up your ass."

Damon blinked at her—stupefied. "You're kicking me out…wait…you're standing up to me?" he chuckled and then laughed raucously.

"I'm glad you find this hilarious now laugh yourself somewhere else," Elena turned away.

Seeing his blunder, Damon flashed in front of Elena and braced his hands on her shoulders. She was definitely annoyed, possibly hurt, but undeniably beautiful with her wet hair, damp skin, and the pleasant scent of her body wash and shampoo. The burn between them was there but seemed muted. Damon wondered why.

Elena rarely displayed feistiness and when it happened, Damon found her efforts cute and hot. Yet he couldn't help but compare and contrast her bossiness with the witch he was back to avoiding. Bonnie would come off like a drill sergeant. _Assemble this rifle blindfolded and then drop and give me fifty, maggot!_ The Marines were missing out, he thought ruefully.

"Damon what are you smiling about?"

"Hun?"

"What were you smiling about just now?"

"Nothing. Listen, get dressed. I'm taking you out to dinner."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"It's a brilliant idea so quit stalling and get dressed. Want my suggestion on attire? Wear something that'll give me easy access."

Elena pretended to be affronted but then blushed. "Give me a minute."

Damon would give her two. Any longer than that was subject to him delaying their trip by another hour while his lips, hands, and dick punished her for her insubordination.

* * *

"Have you talked to Jeremy at all since you've been back?" Matt formed the question tentatively. He was seated across from Bonnie in a booth at Mystic Grill on one of his rare days off.

"_Fuck_ Jeremy and his man pain," Bonnie retorted guilelessly. Matt's eyebrows skyrocketed off his forehead. "I've been told how he decided to mourn me, and complained about the fact I broke up with him over the phone instead of being more…oh I don't know… upset about the fact I died! But that merely put a crimp in his style or didn't if the gossip is right. Prick."

"O…kay," Matt murmured and desperately racked his brain for something, anything else to talk about.

Upon seeing his friend, Matt had made a beeline for Bonnie who welcomed him with a warm smile and a hug. They had settled down together and shot the breeze until he brought up the subject of Jeremy not expecting the reaction that question brought. He wouldn't be making that mistake again.

"So you and Tyler are trying to get into the Police Academy?"

Matt nodded, "Yeah. What are our other options? Tyler…he can finish college, but me, my future was never bright to begin with. Plus…attending Sheriff Forbes' funeral and seeing the ceremony the officers performed…I want to be a part of something like that. I want to protect the people I've known my whole life."

Bonnie's eyes lowered to the table. Matt sounded like her. Idealistic and possibly even foolish. The idea of protecting anyone was more myth than practical. No matter what you tried to do for some, they disregarded it and threw themselves head first into danger, or was just fated to have bad shit happen to them. In the end you were more so doing damage control than real prevention. She had a lot of reasons to burst Matt's bubble, but Bonnie remained mum. If he wanted to one day fill Liz's shoes, she'd support him.

"Have you run into Enzo since you've been home?"

Bonnie lifted her head and stared at her friend suspiciously. "No, why?"

Matt covertly looked around and then stretched out both hands towards Bonnie. "You see visions when you touch things, right?" Bonnie nodded. "There's something you need to see that I can't talk about openly."

"Matt…I can't control what I see and how I see it. My visions are spontaneous."

"Just try, Bonnie. Enzo is the other reason why I want be a police officer. There's not much I can do against the supernatural, but if I at least have the tools to protect humanity from fiends like him…" Matt ended his spiel with a shrug.

It was rare for Matt to bring up her abilities as he's made it a practice to stay far away from all things supernatural despite the supernaturals best efforts to draw him nearer. So this had to be something serious. Bonnie wrapped her fingers around Matt's and closed her eyes. Maybe folks would think they were blessing their food although the only thing decorating the table was their drinks and the condiments.

A blast of images came at her.

She saw Enzo or more to the matter Matt projecting Enzo at her. Enzo tied up, Enzo being thrown into the back of a van, Enzo escaping and entrapping Matt, Enzo arguing with Matt and Stefan before snapping a girl's neck. Enzo pointing out another girl with enviably long black hair and butterscotch skin. Enzo…threatening Matt and threatening the girl.

Bonnie's eyes fluttered open in confusion. Matt typed something on his phone and held it out to Bonnie. She read the message and had to read it again. The question, "Is this true?" filled her fiery green gaze and gravely Matt nodded in the affirmative.

The human watched in awe as Bonnie's eyes seemed to flash a myriad of colors, or maybe that was just a figment of his imagination. In any case she looked frightening.

Matt called her name but Bonnie couldn't hear him, not really. Why was it _so _hard for some vampires to mind their fucking business?

Bonnie was snapped back to attention like a rubber band which made her head pound. She groped for her glass of cranberry ginger ale and took a sip, actually almost drained the contents. Bonnie wanted something loaded with alcohol, but drinking would only exacerbate the emotions roiling through her with the subtly of barbed wire. Matt's lips were moving, and the witch was pretty positive he was asking her if she were all right. Mutely, Bonnie bobbed her head up and down, and she was further drawn out of her musings when a shadow loomed next to the booth.

When she looked up Gideon Cordova was smiling down on her. His handsome face radiating charisma and good vibes that Bonnie wanted to absorb to chase away the dark and chilling thoughts swirling to formation in her skull. He greeted her in Spanish, reached for her hand and planted a kiss on her knuckles.

Bonnie made muffled introductions and Matt quickly vacated leaving her alone with Gideon who slid in beside her. His lips were at her ear whispering sweet nothings about how good she smelled, how beautiful she was, how he couldn't drive fast enough to see her again.

"Un-hun," Bonnie murmured distractedly.

Gideon teased her about being shy and waved over a server. Bonnie ignored their exchange still ruminating over what Matt had disclosed curious to how long he had known the truth and why the _fuck_ he hadn't said shit to Stefan or Damon. _Especially _Damon.

And speaking of Damon he just walked through the door with Elena on his arm. Their heads were huddled close together. Damon brought Elena's hand up and gently bit her knuckle which she shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Bonnie followed their progress across the restaurant where they settled at a table almost in the center of the eatery. Soft smiles, heated gazes, and playful words bounced from one to another.

That insidious thud in Bonnie's head compounded into a furious roasting of her patience. She broke out into a clammy sweat that had Gideon frowning and asking if she were all right.

_Just shut up and be pretty_, Bonnie wanted to shout but offered up a reticent smile that had Gideon affectionately rubbing her back.

Damon had known before he and Elena walked through the door of Mystic Grill that Bonnie was here. It wasn't being smacked in the face with her scent that tipped him off, but the fact her Prius was parked outside taking up two spaces in the lot. He had continued to look straight ahead even as Bonnie and company filled up his peripheral. He was skilled enough to engage Elena in conversation that wasn't so one-sided while also eavesdropping on Bonnie and the Antonio Banderas wannabe. So far the witch was being tight-lipped but her _date _was waxing poetic on all things Bonnie.

He permitted himself just one glance in their direction only as an acknowledgement of their presence, nothing more. Damon was unsurprised Bonnie would be gawking right at him.

Bonnie didn't move a muscle as she observed Damon's head turning in her direction. Their eyes connected and for whatever reason this spurred her into action. Bonnie's mouth found sanctuary on Gideon's who let out a sound that stated his shock. But he easily established a coaxing rhythm, a gentle rolling of his lips along hers that Bonnie did find distracting. She angled her head to peek around Gideon, keeping her eyes on Damon whose face little by little began to sour.

"Oh, Bonnie's here," Elena pointlessly interjected.

Her announcement was met with silence.

Elena ping ponged between Damon and Bonnie not understanding the showdown they were having, but knowing it was making her stomach knot. "Damon?"

He didn't hear her.

Damon tried, he honestly did, not to outwardly show what was inwardly happening. He gripped the edge of the table and felt it warping under his heavy hand. The kiss lasted no more than seconds and when Bonnie pulled away, eyes still on him he heard her as if she shouted right into his ear.

"He tastes_ so_ sweet," and then had the audacity to wink at him.

Yep, she's officially me, Damon scowled.

"Do you want to go up and say hi to Bonnie or rip the guy away who's kissing her?"

Damon whipped his head back toward Elena who was visibly displeased. Busted. He shifted on the chair and rearranged his silverware before answering her ludicrous question.

However she cut him off not giving him a chance to defend his preoccupation. "Did you know Bonnie would be here? Is that why you suggested we come to the Grill when there are about a million different restaurants we could have gone to?"

"I didn't know she was going to be here, Elena and judging by the fact this _is_ the only decent place to eat it shouldn't really be that surprising she would be here. I just…didn't expect her not to be alone. But why are we even talking about this? It's not important."

Elena huffed and slumped against her chair. Maybe she didn't have a right to be upset or accusatory, but she had never seen Damon appear so…the adequate word escaped the doppelganger at the moment. But it was apparent Damon didn't _like_ witnessing Bonnie making out with another guy. That rumble she felt earlier was now a tsunami.

She breathed in and exhaled out and picked up the new and improved menu determined to have a nice night out. Bonnie and Damon were friends and he was probably just worried about the guy and his motives. Elena couldn't fault Damon for his concern because when it came to reputable men and Bonnie the two weren't synonymous—well maybe outside of Jeremy though that had also been questionable.

"Bonnie has always been a good judge of character, Damon," Elena flicked her eyes toward him.

"I know that."

Elena reached across the table and draped her hand over his, "It's sweet you're worried about her, but relax and let's order."

* * *

Bonnie thought, who does this bitch think she's fooling. She smirked and slid her fingers along the glossy pool stick.

"My turn?" she asked.

"You're up, judgy."

Elena watched.

She tried to be a good sport, play along, keep her inner emotions under heavy guard, lock and key, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could be immune.

It was one thing recognizing what may be hidden in others that they were far from being aware of, and speaking that aloud to a third party that had nothing at stake to lose. Conversely it was quite another to actually witness it and having to remain tight-lipped.

Elena held up a wall in the back of the restaurant holding a beer bottle in her hand.

"You feel up to playing some billiards?" Damon had questioned and didn't even wait for her reply before he was up and on his feet moving to the back of the restaurant where the pool tables were housed.

His sudden interest had been fueled by Bonnie and her date heading to the pool tables after they finished their dinner.

Elena had gouged the inside of her cheek and refrained from commenting once again deferring to her mantra: Bonnie needs him. She had walked several paces behind Damon and then slapped a fairly believable smile on her face when they arrived at the table where Bonnie was.

Introductions had been made. Gideon Cordova was very easy on the eyes, the quintessence of magnetism drowned in Spanish blood. He had soft amber eyes, a baritone voice, strong jaw, wispy brown hair that covered his ears and brushed his shoulders. Gideon was tall, not as tall as Damon, lean but with musculature that filled out his clothing appealingly. And he couldn't keep his eyes off Bonnie.

Most of the time Bonnie ignored the flirty looks Gideon would throw her way, but when she did give him her undivided attention, his face would light up as if he won the lottery, and his lips would find the spot behind her ear or her cheek.

At one point, he paused before taking his shot just to run the pad of his thumb over Bonnie's full bottom lip saying his reward would be her kiss. He was terribly romantic, the doppelganger sighed.

Bonnie rolled her eyes and playfully pushed him away. Any other guy's ego might have deflated thinking the girl he wanted didn't want him, but Bonnie's rebuffs seemed to spurn Gideon on. He and Bonnie pretty much dominated the game of pool Elena had been roped into playing since Damon wanted to intrude on their date. Gideon was skilled and allowed it to show but he wasn't arrogant about it.

Now Bonnie and Damon were partners and though they didn't say much to each other, the tension was still there. They moved toward one another on a purely unconscious level, keeping the other well within sight range, but not being obtuse with it. Whenever Bonnie needed help lining up a particularly difficult shot, Damon was there, leaning over her not enough to touch, but enough for Bonnie to feel the barest imprint of his body.

Once again, Damon was coaching his partner.

Elena pinched the skin beneath her chin when Damon's fingers overlapped Bonnie's to show her how to hold the cue stick to guarantee the shot she wanted to make would actually sink into its pocket. She stopped breathing altogether when Bonnie turned her head bringing her face closer to Damon's.

"Like this?" Bonnie asked so casually.

"Just like that," Damon intoned almost suggestively. He backed away and let Bonnie take the shot that of course she made.

They shared a laugh and gave one another high-fives, but Damon held Bonnie's hand longer than a high-five required.

Gideon had sidled up to Elena watching Bonnie and Damon's interactions with a fierce intensity she wondered if he were getting jealous.

"She is very good," Gideon complimented, eyes riveted on Bonnie who leaned against the opposite wall observing Damon as he rounded the pool table contemplating his next shot.

"She has a good coach."

"Yes, he is a pool shark is he not?" Gideon quipped. "He and Bonnie make a good pairing."

Twitch. "You're a very good player, too. If it weren't for you we still wouldn't be in the game."

Gideon smiled and glanced at Elena. "You've been with Damon long?"

"Kind of…it's complicated. What about you and Bonnie? She seems happy and I believe she has you to thank for that."

Maybe, the doppelganger amended, she couldn't be too sure. She used to be able to read Bonnie so well. Unfortunately that knowledge deteriorated to the point Elena didn't know who her friend was anymore because Bonnie kept herself so guarded. Elena understood she was partly the reason for that.

Gideon's chest seemed to swell in his shirt, "She's a lovely woman and I'm glad we met, but…I get the feeling she's holding herself back. Perhaps someone from her past has hurt her a great deal, but she needn't worry about me hurting her. She's too precious."

"Where did she find you?" Elena asked on an amused chuckle.

"At an apothecary two towns over. I was looking for something for my _abuela_. Grandmother," he clarified. "Bonnie pointed me in the right direction. I took one look into her stunning eyes and well the rest, as they say, is history."

"Where are you from originally?"

"Zaragoza, Spain," Gideon leaned closer to Elena who adjusted accordingly, he whispered, "Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but…was there something between Bonnie and Damon? Were they ever…involved?"

Elena swung her gaze to the people in question. She knew the answer to that but what was throwing her off was the _way_ Bonnie and Damon were behaving around one another_ presently_. There was an unmistakable intimacy between them, a connection forged through calamitous circumstances, life and death. Rebirth. Still, the question startled her.

"No, they're just…friends."

"I thought so but I…" Gideon didn't finish his thought.

Before Elena could get her next question out, Gideon was laughing and moving away. Bonnie scratched and now it was his turn to take over. Gideon whispered something in Bonnie's ear who frowned but then smiled radiantly awarding him a kiss that lingered and lingered.

Damon felt the muscles in his jaw tick. Were they seriously not aware other people were standing around? He huffed.

He wasn't sure what to make of the guy. Damon could grudgingly admit Gideon was…not too terrible to look at and said something's he could nod his head in approval, and he was of course leaps and bounds away from being as pathetic as Jeremy, but…the immortal wondered idly if he were making that "face" Bonnie had called him out on making.

When he finally remembered Elena stood among them and looked her way, the disapproval was heavily written in her dilating pupils.

"Hey," she pushed away from her hiding spot. "I need a little break. I'll be back."

Two pairs of eyes watched her leave, but a pair of green ones rolled.

Damon waited an appropriate amount of time before following after Elena. He found her loitering outside of the bathrooms.

"Reneging on what you told me a few days ago?" Damon didn't mean to sound haughty but he loved it when people had to swallow their words and eat crow.

Elena deliberately cleared her face of any and all emotion. An action which took assiduous practice. "No, I'm not. I'm just…thinking."

"About?"

"Us."

"What about us?" he boxed Elena in by placing one hand on the wall beside her head.

"I thought I could…If your feelings were changing…you'd tell me, right?"

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "My feelings aren't changing, Elena. They're pretty much fixed."

"I'm not exactly the girl you fell in love with."

"But you're still the girl I love. Your memories of me might be gone but even you know there's a part of you, the old you still rooting around in there telling you not to let me go, and you're listening to that voice."

"There's another voice that's louder telling me that I should step away for good before my heart is irrevocably broken. How hard did I love you that I couldn't survive grieving you, Damon? That scares me. That I could be so unhinged."

"It just means we loved _hard _and maybe even illogically, but it was love all the same. Are you…feeling insecure about my friendship with Bonnie?"

Elena didn't want to be yet she couldn't help it. However she didn't give voice to anything because if she did she'd only sound selfish. She thought she could handle it, but she may have over compensated her own neutrality.

Damon read her well enough, and ran his fingers through her hair. "I'm telling you right now you don't have to be. She's not what I want, she's not _who_ I want. I could never want her as much as I want you."

Weariness evaporated like rain clouds in Elena, but she shook her head. "You're just saying that."

"I mean it. Everything I am…I gave it to you a long time ago, Elena. I don't have anything left to give to anyone else. I'm in love with _you_. Not Bonnie or anyone else nor do I want to be. You're _my_ girl."

His words hung in the air and then they were kissing with urgency and fury.

Around the corner, Bonnie Bennett listened and thudded the back of her head on the wall. Her throat constricted but she refused to make a sound. The heat of her body burned away any burgeoning tears, but they were leading a mutiny ready to have their way regardless. One rolled then another and soon enough they were free falling. Inwardly she laughed. On the outside she was _pissed_ but more than that royally hurt.

Staring into nothingness, Bonnie shook herself out of it, wiped her tears away, and rounded the corner. She cleared her throat. Damon and Elena sprang apart both looking guilty.

Tipping her chin up, Bonnie muttered, "And basic gets all of the awards. _Move_," she ordered.

The vampires complied. Bonnie strolled past them and entered the ladies room.

The night was officially over.

* * *

Damon woke up the next morning with the sun beaming right in his face. He should have been feeling buoyant because he poured his little heart out to Elena, instead he felt a like a lump of coal. Their convo didn't lead to sex and weirdly he hadn't wanted to have sex with her. For the first time since they became a couple Damon could say they were unanimously on the same page. That left him feeling rather pleased and yet there was a niggling sensation that screamed "Basic gets all of the awards" that Damon promptly ignored.

He quickly bounded out of bed, showered, dressed, and was making his way downstairs unconsciously listening for movement. A strong scent of some kind of plant burning—Damon took a cursory scent and frowned, acacia berries permeated the air along with the noxious stench of candlewax. Bonnie was cooking but it definitely wasn't pancakes.

Damon turned the corner after clearing the stairs and saw the witch seated lotus style in the middle of the living room floor, the furniture pushed to the other ridges. Her hands were clasped, chin resting on her knuckles, eyes closed. She was speaking—no chanting but the language Damon was unfamiliar with. It wasn't Latin maybe it was Gaelic?

He watched her for a moment and picked up on the fact Bonnie was different. The curtains were thrown open allowing plenty of sunlight to filter into the room. So Bonnie should have been glowing, but instead she was covered in shadows as if a dome of some sort was retracting the light preventing it from touching a single hair on her head.

Slowly her eyes opened and she stopped chanting. When she looked at him her face was devoid of emotion.

"Good morning," Damon greeted.

Bonnie uncurled her legs and extended her fingers before rising to her feet. She said nothing to him.

Damon's head tilted to the side. Even when Bonnie was in a bad mood she never not returned his greeting. "I said good morning!"

"I heard you," she snapped and headed over to the table where the candles and acacia berries were burning.

"Was I…did I interrupt your communing with the corners or something?"

"Or something," Bonnie muttered dryly.

Feeling like he did something to piss off the witch but of course having no clue as to his crime, Damon took a step forward and hit a boundary. "Bonnie what's going on? Why can't I enter my own damn living room?"

"Because it's spelled."

"Yeah I figured that much. What I want to know is why?"

Damon heard her exhale a frustrated breath. Was she upset about catching him and Elena necking? Why would she be upset about that? Or was this just general moodiness and he was the unfortunate punk to take the brunt of it? He watched her turn around and there was steel glinting in her eyes, her hands were tightly clasped into fists.

Bonnie squared her shoulders and began walking toward Damon. He swallowed reflexively uncertain as to what to expect. When she was close enough Bonnie reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She flipped through her photo album and when she found the picture she needed she held the device out to Damon who stared at it. A very attractive twentysomething woman with golden eyes, tawny skin and long black hair smiled back at him.

"Who is that?" he asked.

"Sarah Salvatore. Your niece."

"WHAT?" Damon made a go to snatch Bonnie's phone but his hand crashed into the barrier and he all but shouted, "What the hell do you mean that's Sarah Salvatore?! It can't be. What…I don't…explain!"

Bonnie closed out the picture and slipped her phone into her back pocket. "The woman you attacked, your nephew's girlfriend Gail…she died but the baby didn't. Stefan rushed them to the hospital where an emergency C-section was performed, and then he had the baby put up for adoption but kept tabs on her. Enzo found out about it and now he's using Matt to get closer to Sarah so he can move in and pretty much be a fucking douche and make her life, your _niece's_ life a living hell before turning her into a vampire."

Suddenly the warmth Damon felt earlier turned into stark coldness. He heard a humming in his ears and wondered where it was coming from. He stared at Bonnie but honestly he was looking right through her.

Rage the likes Damon had never experienced made his head almost catapult off his shoulders. It paled in comparison to way he felt when he learned of Katherine's deceit, and when Stefan forced him to turn. No, that was more like being mad at someone for eating the last slice of pizza you had your mouth set ready to eat.

What the fuck would possess Enzo to think he had the _right _to touch his family? Damon had to live with the guilt, the stifling guilt of what he did to Zach, of what he did to Gail and an innocent child, but to discover the child survived but now her life was being threatened…and by someone who called him friend…

Bonnie watched dispassionately as Damon grit his teeth, tendons in his neck protruding as he paced maddeningly from one end of the living room not blocked by the barrier to the other. Dark veins convalesced under his eyes that were blackening by the second. When he bared his teeth his fangs were present. His right hand shook as he balled it into a fist and when he raised it to punch through a wall, Damon stopped.

"No," he heaved trying to control his useless breathing. When Damon spun toward Bonnie his face was back to normal. "No, Enzo doesn't get to lay a hand on Sarah. Her life was ruined enough because of me I can't…_NO_! Do you hear me, Bonnie, he _can't_ hurt her."

"And that's why I'm going to kill him."

Damon stilled and blinked at Bonnie's cavalier tone.

"You're going to…"

"I'm going to make sure Sarah has a bullshit free life. On account her parents were pointlessly _murdered_ by her own uncle no less."

Damon's spine stiffened. Yeah, that stung.

"After I end _En_zo…I'm leaving."

The blue-eyed vampire's jaw loosened, "What do you mean you're leaving? Where do you plan on going?"

Bonnie said nothing. Merely pivoted like a Russian trained ballerina and sauntered back to the long table situated in the alcove.

Teeth clenched on top of one another, Damon roared her name so loudly he was sure demons all the way in the last circle of hell could hear him. "BONNIE WHAT THE _FUCK_ DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE LEAVING?"

_What do you need me around for Damon when you already have everything you want, yes? _Instead of saying those words, Bonnie picked up a wineglass filled with water and helped herself to a sip.

"No need to yell, mate I'm sure she can hear you from where she stands."

Damon whirled around. His face changed and he was preparing himself to launch at Enzo who just so casually strolled through his front door like everything was honky dory, but a strange thing happened. Well, not so strange as it was inconvenient and a fucking nuisance. Damon's movements were halted, muscles paralyzed from doing what the synapses in his brain was _ordering_ he do and rip the asshole apart.

With the flick of her hand, Bonnie sent Damon tumbling backwards into a chair where she pinned him much in the same fashion as she did Kai. He snarled at her.

Enzo snorted in amusement and then looked at the witch. "Lover's spat?"

"I need to talk to you about something, Enzo," Bonnie waved him closer.

Seething in righteous anger, Damon tried to move but couldn't. He watched as Enzo stepped fully into his living room, crossed the point where the barrier started with no impediment, but as soon as he hit the spot where Bonnie had been chanting earlier he started frying.

"uurrrgggghhh what the hell?"

The rest of Enzo's sentiment was silenced with a wooden bullet to the back of the head. Enzo's head jerked up and then he fell forward with a harsh thud.

Matt lowered his arm, the barrel of the handgun smoking. Damon shot his gaze back and forth between Donovan and Bonnie as if he were exceptionally slow. _They _were partners now?

Bonnie finally permitted a small smile to broaden across her beautifully vengeful face.

**A/N: Stay tuned for more. Shortly. Let me know what you think. **


	10. Bamon-Day 23

**A/N: Bad News this isn't part 3 of the latest Bamon series I started. Sorry, dolls. I am majorly blocked on that story with executive decisions that need to be made that my mind refuses to make. But this little nugget came because well Kat released her vid for 1991, Nina is leaving, and I'm still for some odd reason intrigued by Bamon's time in 1994. **

**What you need to know for this story: I've read plenty of post 5x22/S6 stories where Damon seems to adjust easily to his and Bonnie's plight, and I wondered how would he be if he weren't. I'm not making any promises to length. I'm just going to write. Enjoy. **

Disclaimer: These characters belong to TVD/CW Network. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

||Damon's POV||

"_I peeked…" _

Those were the only words that played over and over in my mind in those final moments with Elena, crouched down on a dirty floor, sweeping her hair aside, watching her cry. Telling her things she couldn't hear but things I hoped she'd come to know that despite our fucked up relationship she meant everything to me. With remembering came the good and the bad. And the good between us had been stuffed into a handful of months out of the years I practically took over her life. Little by little, day by day until I grew to be just as much an obsession for her as she was to me.

It was what I wanted. What I thought I deserved on account of the man I am, the being I've revolved my seditious moral code around. There weren't many lessons from Giuseppe that I carried around and blew the dust off when I lacked clarity or direction. Nevertheless, there was one thing that piece of shit said that stuck out to me: if you're going to waste your life, waste it on something worth it.

Elena had been worth it. Worth ruining whatever vestiges of a relationship I shared with my brother, worth blowing my hometown to smithereens for. Worth lying, killing, stealing, deceiving, disappointing those who had somehow wormed their way into my orbit despite the many signs I erected that screamed: Keep the hell away.

At least those were the lies I told myself. I was dead-dead and my girl and my brother were alive and would continue to live on without me. The fucking irony. If this were my punishment, comeuppance then I guess it's well-deserved. Truthfully, I'd love to raze the pits of hell to get out of my situation, curse and cry but it won't change the facts as they were. I had everything in the _old_ world I could have possibly wanted right there at the edge of my fingertips, and with the snap of the fingers the gates were closed, and I was shut out.

But I'm not alone.

Suppose there's some comfort that my misery will be shared by the last person on this gotdamn earth I'd want to be in close quarters with for any length of time. Then again, I should count the former anchor's presence as a blessing because I could have been stuck with Jeremy. Blegh.

As it is, Bonnie and I are trapped in an alternate version of Mystic Falls or possibly the world as a whole. We're quite not sure, but finding a newspaper dated May 10th, 1994 put nothing in perspective, and that eclipse didn't provide any answers to explain where we were and why. Most importantly—how.

Bonnie tried to explain it to me as she and I loitered on the Gilbert porch our first day here. Her Grams left behind a cryptic message as witches were so damn fond of doing, telling Bonnie she made sure she found her peace. If this was what she had in mind it might be time for Sheila to get herself a dictionary. Sure, this place offered lots of peace if one was a recluse or agoraphobic since there was literally no one else here. Believe me, I listened and I looked.

We were totally alone and I only saw things ending one way, disastrously.

After hoofing it on foot, Bonnie went to her house and I made my way to my abode. I was glad for the separation because I needed time to think and process this…change. Usually I'm that guy who can roll with the punches, come up with a Plan B if necessary. However I was feeling a bunch of shit I wasn't ready to put a name to that I certainly didn't want to do it with an audience.

Lying in bed alone in an empty house in an empty town had never been more…depressing and lonely. My thoughts bounced from Elena to Stefan, even Katherine a time or two. I thought of my mom and what it must have been like for her. Lying in that hospice bed, dying of consumption with only a nurse and physician to look after her. My dad had restricted me and Stefan's visits to her afraid we would catch her illness, but I snuck off a couple of times to sit with her, read to her, talk to her, or sometimes just watched her sleep.

I couldn't be sure she even knew I was there in the end. When she went, she went alone.

Abruptly my thoughts turned to Bonnie. Curiosity bloomed and I wondered what she was doing. Was she feeling homesick too despite the fact we were home, but the people who made up the tangible part of home were who knew how many millions of miles away. Was she thinking about the time she died? Or those last few moments standing on the Other Side before it…blipped out of existence?

Then I asked myself what the fuck did I care what Bonnie was thinking or feeling at the moment. We were stuck and probably never getting out. She doesn't have magic. I'm still an asshole vampire. Those were the ingredients for imminent disaster.

But we were all the other had. I guess there were worse odds to have and face.

Closing my eyes that night, I saw Elena's in my dreams, and walked straight into open arms.

* * *

||Day 23||

One morning she would like to come into the kitchen and find it blissfully empty. Today would not be that day, Bonnie thought gloomily. She tied the sash of her robe tighter around her waist, and ignored the lump of vampire flesh seated at the table drinking a glass of bourbon staring dejectedly at nothing.

About ten days ago Bonnie learned—the hard way—to stop asking Damon what was wrong with him when he was like this. He told her, acidly to "Mind your fucking business, witch," and immediately returned to slurping up his brown liquor.

Her cheeks had heated with his stank attitude, and she was tempted to do the exact opposite of what he rudely advised, but Bonnie liked to pick battles that actually served a purpose.

His mood swings Bonnie was accustomed to them; however, she had had the pleasure of not having to speak to Damon again until another crisis arose. Well, they were fresh out of crises to manage and people to save. Besides themselves, but Damon seemed perfectly content to wallow in whatever form of life this was, and not lift a finger or at least pretend to be optimistic that she'll get her magic back in addition to discovering the spell that would send them home.

She understood why he was angry and depressed. Bonnie had her moments where she didn't want to get out of bed because she missed home so horribly that the rest of her felt crippled. But if she succumbed, if she gave up then being stuck in this place for the rest of her life would become a permanent truth. And Bonnie couldn't let that happen. She refused.

Once again she would have to do things on her own because at this pace Damon was proving to be of no help.

Unfortunately ignoring one another could only go on for so long before Bonnie anticipated she might snap and slap him.

Padding over to the coffee machine, Bonnie pulled the pot out and was surprised to see freshly brewed coffee ready to be consumed. She quickly looked over her shoulder wondering if Damon poisoned it. Making coffee had become her thing on those rare mornings they ate breakfast together. Damon had become obsessed with making pancakes although they tasted like cardboard. Guess he was practicing until he mastered that particular dish, but in any case, Bonnie had taken over manning the coffee and scrambling eggs.

Today she was in the mood for a Belgian waffle, but the coffee threw her off and she wondered if this were a peace offering of sorts. Last night had not been a good night for her or Damon.

She had been thinking about a sleepover she had with Caroline and Elena when they were sixteen, and Bonnie found a song in Damon's 1994 CD collection that reminded her of that night when they were just three normal girls arguing over which football player had the best abs. Bonnie had played the song on repeat as a way to hold on to that memory, but it must have rankled Damon's nerves because he zoomed into her room, ejected the CD and snapped it in half right in front of her face.

He walked out without apology or explanation and Bonnie seriously considered taking a crowbar to his ribs.

She snapped to her feet, charged after Damon and demanded to know what the hell his problem was. He swung around to face her and yelled a bunch of shit that didn't make a lick of sense, and ended his tirade by threatening to throw her down the stairs.

A two year old could have more self-control than Damon at times.

Deliberately banging around pots and pans until she had everything she needed to make breakfast, Bonnie started humming the song from last night. Purposely to fuck with him.

She was tired of walking on eggshells around Damon because he was in his feels. Several times Bonnie questioned why she chose to remain under his roof, suffering through his debasement when there were plenty of other houses she could live in. Her house specifically, but she knew the answer and didn't want to think about that too deeply. And perhaps that was one reason out of many in why Damon behaved like such a dick because he knew she had no one else.

She heard him sigh and watched as he rose from the table. Bonnie went back to cracking eggs expecting him to leave for his daily stroll through town or the woods. She squeaked when Damon came to stand beside her and hip checked her out of the way.

"I feel like an omelet," he said gruffly. "You want one?"

Bonnie's left eyebrow inched toward her hairline. "Sure. Thanks."

He nodded once and cracked four more eggs in the bowl and started whisking away.

Dragging her body to the other side of the kitchen island, Bonnie tentatively sat down automatically reaching for the newspaper.

She had each article memorized by this point but she needed something to do. The thought did come to Bonnie to retire to her bedroom and throw some clothes on, but she could do that after eating.

The silence between them was heavy, strained and Bonnie did what she could to ignore it though she was itching to say something.

Damon beat her to the punch. "I'm sorry for being a dick last night."

Bonnie eyed him suspiciously waiting for the catch, or the excuse that would alleviate him from taking full responsibility for his rude behavior. Everything Damon did in his mind was justifiable.

"Why were you a dick last night? Or why do you feel the need to be a dick at all? We're all we've got, Damon and though that's crappy for the both of this, none of this is my fault."

He stopped whisking the eggs and stared at Bonnie. His shitty behavior could be construed as him blaming her for their predicament now that he thought about it. In a weirdly twisted way Damon was still thankful he was a "thing" and not just a waft of smoke or a blot of nothingness. And he was extremely thankful he wasn't roasting on a spit in hell, but he was in a deeply foul mood and was out of ideas on how to stop feeling sorry for himself. So that unfortunately left Bonnie as a target for his frustration.

"I don't blame you for this, Bonnie."

"Really? Because for the last twenty-three days you've been acting like I purposely trapped you here to ruin your life."

"I'm just…on edge," Damon explained poorly.

"I get that. You think I'm not?"

"I know you are."

"You're right I am, but the one thing I'm _not_ going to do is take my frustration out on the one person who has the means to change my situation. Call me when it's time to eat."

With those parting words, Bonnie left the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later Bonnie heard the summons to come eat. She had donned a pair of ripped acid wash jeans and a sunflower embroidered halter mid-drift feeling like a missing Spice Girl.

This time when she walked inside the kitchen it was empty.

* * *

The water from the shower nozzle pelted his back. He did some of his best thinking in the shower. However his thinking was interrupted by Bonnie's words to him. She was right and he didn't want to admit that. Instead, he grumbled.

Why it was hard for her to comprehend that it was his natural propensity to reject optimism no matter how miniscule was beyond him. Eternity in any case was a sentence Damon had come to terms with, but finding something to hold on to make it worthwhile had been his one occupation for a hundred and fifty years. He had it and he lost it and he was angry. Right now he just didn't have the fucking will to _want _there to be a legit way out of this place.

He thought the promise of seeing Elena again might be the trick in snapping his ass into action, but that wasn't doing it for him either. Say he and Bonnie did return, and he and Elena took one look at each other and fell right back into their old pattern? Sure things might be good between them for a while, but something would inevitably happen restarting the cycle of making and breaking up again.

Damon didn't want to go through that and felt too set in his ways to really change. He _had _changed and the process had been humiliating and humbling at times, but that small voice in the back of his head that suspiciously sounded like Bonnie chirped it wasn't enough.

Change was a progressive thing stretched over time.

In the meantime he proposed the least he could do was be more accommodating and cordial toward Bonnie. Without her, he'd be nothing.

Damon finished his shower, dressed, and crossed the hall. He tapped on Bonnie's closed door. She didn't respond.

"Bonnie?" Damon pushed the door open.

Her room was empty and when he listened carefully he didn't hear her moving around the house.

Brow furrowed, Damon saw a note on her bed. It was in his hands a second later, reading over the words and then he read them again.

"_I need to take off for a few days. I'll be back. Bonnie." _

Refusing to believe she would leave, Damon zoomed outside and saw that his beloved Camaro was gone. She had to have hotwired it.

Damon could do nothing but laugh after cursing and gritting his teeth.

* * *

Much like his first night in the boardinghouse alone Damon was bored. No one to talk to, belittle, grudge, or gawk at for over twelve hours and he felt he was losing the last of his right mind. Damn, for the first time he found himself missing Bonnie.

So Damon did what he could to stay busy. He tried to waste the time away by doing small repairs around the house, running into town, going to Mystic Grill entertaining himself by putting on a one-man karaoke show. He stole a bunch of golf balls and clubs, hoofed them to the clock tower and improved on his swing. He lit firecrackers, made an attempt at sunbathing while flipping through tit magazines.

After all this he was positive three days had to have passed, and was horrified to learn it had only been twenty-four hours since Bonnie split.

He stopped by Bonnie's house thinking she might have gone there for a personal retreat. The place was empty as was Sheila's, Caroline's, Elena's, even Matt's poor excuse for a home was vacant. He tried the Lockwood mansion, even the abandoned witch house. None of those places showed any signs that Bonnie was there or had been there.

The next few days Damon more or less spent them doing the same mundane activities, trying not to think about the crushing silence. Trying not to lose his shit because Bonnie had no business taking off without at least telling him exactly where she was going. And to steal his car! He was going to fuck her up good when she came back.

If she came back.

She had to come back. She couldn't…she couldn't just leave him here alone. He may have deserved it, but damn he wasn't _that _bad was he?

"Who are you kidding, Damon?" he chided himself.

On day four he heard the unmistakable sound of the Camaro's engine. He was seated in the living room reading _Call of the Wild _for the millionth time, and ordered himself to remained parked right there on the couch. His plan was to ignore her, pretend she wasn't back and that he wasn't embarrassingly glad she had returned. He would not, in any way, acknowledge her existence since she didn't care what it would to do him—her leaving.

However, Damon felt the first crack in his plan occur when the door opened and Bonnie's sweet smell smacked him in the face. His grip on the book nearly ripped it in half, but he forced his eyes to remain pinned to the words.

"Hey," Bonnie closed the door behind her entry and dropped her duffle bag.

"Hey," Damon muttered reluctantly but he didn't look at her. He didn't trust himself to.

To his annoyance, his other senses were very much attuned to Bonnie. Damon's ears twitched at her footfalls on the floor and then the carpet. She was wearing boots, he divined, and bracelets dangled on her wrists. She was chewing gum—watermelon flavored, the brand—Bubblicious. She smelled like sunshine, the wind, and…magic?

Mentally, Damon blinked rapidly.

"Enjoy your trip?" he licked his index finger and flipped a page.

Bonnie blew a bubble and subsequently popped it before answering, "I did. What did you get into while I was gone?"

"Had a rave," he widened his eyes.

"Yeah, I can tell."

"Must you smack your gum so loud? I've gotten use to silence since someone didn't leave me much choice."

Bonnie scanned Damon from head to toe. He was pissed that was easy enough to see. He had yet to look directly at her, but if that book wasn't shoved in his face, she knew he'd be glaring at her with enough force to turn her into ash.

"I'm sorry about taking your car," Bonnie apologized and flung herself on the couch. From her position she could see Damon's face, which meant he very well could see hers.

"Are you really?"

"I filled the tank up. Does that count for anything?"

Damon finally lowered the book and looked at Bonnie. For a second his eyes widened but then he cooled his features and showed no reaction to her presence. He didn't care to learn why her hair was in thick braids that nearly reached her waist, or why her skin glowed, or why she looked inherently pleased with herself.

"I guess. Now that you're back that means it's my turn to go on a mini-adventure," he stood from the couch to do just that. Let her know what it felt like to be abandoned and pine for his company, he sniffed.

"Don't you want to know where I've been and what I've been up to?"

Yes, he did want to know but Damon was stubborn enough to seal his lips. He shrugged and began to trot over to the door. "I really don't give a shit."

His hand just landed on the doorknob.

"I almost have my magic back, Damon."

He let the handle go, turned to face Bonnie. The question on his face asked what his mouth could not.

Bonnie read him clear enough. "I just need…a spark…something to inspire it to ignite. What made my magic come to the surface the first time…the arrival of a pair of vampire brothers," she rose from the couch. "Well, there's only one vampire in town."

Damon didn't move a muscle as Bonnie closed the gap between them.

"Think you can get over yourself and help me get my magic back? Whenever I needed backup, you were right there, Damon. For old time's sake let's do what we do best."

His face was smirking unbeknownst to him, "And that would be, little witch?"

"Fight."

**A/N: Yea? Nay? More? Let me know. Thanks for reading!**


	11. Bamon-Redrum

**A/N: Hey there people. So this is the 3****rd**** installment of the Hard Limits/Subtext drabbles. Because Subtext is freakishly long, I'll re-jog your memory of what happened so you won't have to re-read it. **

**Bonnie and Matt conspired together to take Enzo down because of his plans for Sarah, and before that she overheard Dustlena's conversation where Damon was like 'blah, blah, blah only you Elena, blah," which has prompted Bonnie to leave casa de Salvatore. This picks up where things left off. Enjoy. Another long one ahead.**

* * *

Blood stained Damon Salvatore's hands. The literal and figurative kind. It made his fingers stick together, was packed underneath his nails, imbedded in the minute cracks and crevices of his pale skin. He walked slowly from the place where he buried years of some of his most horrible memories, but the emptiness, hollowness inside didn't make him feel any better about what he had done.

Three years ago he killed without hardly a fuck given, but after meeting Elena, Liz Forbes, Carol Lockwood, Rose…Bonnie in their own ways their influence rubbed off on him. He wouldn't haul off and say he had reformed into the Damon he used to be early on in his immortality where he still felt human. But he began to take into account that every solution didn't equate death for whatever opposition stood in the way, and when others lost because of him, remorse made it just a tad bit harder to fall asleep at night.

The rain followed him as Damon made the lonely trek back to the boardinghouse. Several lights were on and he knew the occupants waiting inside were impatient for news. He wasn't in a bragging state of mind. In fact, his mind was stuck on the squishy feel of a vampire heart being compressed in his fist. His reason for removing it may have been honorable in someone's eyes, but it left an awful taste in Damon's mouth.

Friendship, even a one-sided one was, at times, hard to let go, Damon reasoned.

His steps slowed as a figure emerged from the house and stood waiting for him on the large patio. The long hair was a dead giveaway to the person's identity, which just so happened to be the last person Damon actually wanted to see or talk to. She'd want to analyze what happened to death, and Damon had played that card too well tonight.

"Damon…"

Her curious and timid rasp reached his ears even while being half a football field length away from the house.

"Go back inside, Elena."

"Are you okay?"

"I'll be…fine."

"Everyone's still here."

Yeah, he hadn't expected anyone to go anywhere.

"Do you want me to ask Matt and Bonnie to leave?"

Damon's response was automatic. "No." Well, that wasn't true for Matt, but the dark-haired vampire already knew his stubborn ass wouldn't budge. Bonnie, the thought of her alone made him want to break something. He was so furious with her!

Elena didn't follow that up with anything, but Damon heard her indrawn breath, a sign of her resignation. "Okay, I'll let them know you're coming."

It was Damon's turn to become mute.

_**Before…**_

Several questions flitted through Damon's beavered mind. Mainly and undoubtedly what the hell was going on? He could very well see from Bonnie and Matt's harried but well-coordinated movements that this hadn't been a trap of opportunity to ensnare Enzo, but one of careful planning. Right now, the bullet that pierced the vampire's skull split it wide open. Okay, _maybe_ not wide open, but the fact of the matter remained blood and brains were oozing out on his carpet.

Damon grimaced in annoyance. Another antique rug to bite the dust.

Bonnie had not consulted him. Bonnie had gone to Matt or maybe the human had been the one to petition Bonnie, Damon couldn't say, but it was clear they were on the same murderous page. Overall this scene was too familiar for comfort.

Matt clicked the safety on the gun before tucking it in the waistband of his jeans and disappearing out the door. During his absence Bonnie had wandered over to Enzo, one arm horizontally slung across her waist while she tapped her chin with the other in thought. Her military style boots hardly made a sound as they drew closer to the incapacitated vampire. She pushed Enzo with her foot until he rolled on his back.

"Bonnie…_let_ me go!" Damon demanded. She snubbed him. "Hello!"

Matt returned with a rolled tarp slung over his shoulder and a black duffel bag. He deposited the bag on a table positioned near one of the couches, and dropped the tarp on the floor. Together he and Bonnie unfurled it and that instantaneously triggered Damon's memory.

"_Here, grab that corner."_

"_Why are we doing this?"_

"_I don't want to stain the carpet."_

"_I knew you'd say something like that."_

"_You're judging again."_

It may have been morbid but that had been their thing. Getting the jump on a common enemy to which Damon later sharpened his knives (fire poker) on their ribs. Nevertheless, the blue-eyed vampire watched with glittering dark eyes as Matt propped Enzo up while Bonnie moved one of the old, high back chairs dead center on the tarp.

"BONNIE!" Damon tried again, his patience officially obsolete.

"How is Sarah?" Bonnie calculatingly ignored Damon and addressed Matt.

"She's fine. She's headed out of town with friends."

"Were you able to convince her to accept your gift?"

Damon's eyes narrowed as he watched the human's cheeks redden slightly.

"She accepted but there's no guarantee she'll actually use it."

"Well, regardless she has it. That's the most important thing."

What the fuck are they talking about, Damon's head was expanding with unanswered questions and was on its way to blowing.

Matt dumped Enzo's body on the chair, but straightened the bloodsucker until he was seated properly, and laid his arms along the arm rests. He stepped back to admire his handiwork as the gray shirt Enzo wore darkened with his blood. Matt fought valiantly not to smile.

"How much longer will he be out?" he conferred with Bonnie.

"He'll be up when I'm ready for him to be up," she swung her gaze toward her co-conspirator. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"I've taken out an Original and didn't lose a wink of sleep over it. Granted that Original didn't do a thing to me. Enzo…trust me I won't be crying any tears over him. Bye Felicia."

Bonnie chuckled. Damon rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me Bonnie and Clyde Junior…but the only person who has the right to actually kill Enzo is _me_. Now Bonnie let me go before I _go_ fucking mental."

"Too late for that," Matt said under his breath.

Bonnie didn't look up from Enzo but waved her hand carelessly through the air. Damon shot up from the seat and flashed to her side only marginally surprised he didn't bounce off the barrier she had erected earlier.

Unthinkingly, Damon grabbed Bonnie by the wrist and yanked her over to the alcove. The sunlight reflected in his orbs threw out twenty different shades of fury.

"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing?" Damon hissed through his teeth. Every nerve ending he possessed was flaring brightly telling him to do one unforgiveable act or another to knock some sense into Bonnie's head.

He waited for worry to wrinkle her brow with uncertainty about the course she decided to go down dragging Matt right along with her. On an average day, Damon could give a damn what Mutt did in his free time, or if he opened up his baby blues to the dawn of a new morning. But what he did care about was Bonnie entangling herself in something that really was none of her business, and needlessly coming to the rescue while putting herself in danger.

She blindsided him with the revelation that the baby he thought he killed by proxy was in fact very much alive. His niece was thriving, gorgeous, and had been precariously close to having her life ended prematurely. If what Bonnie revealed to him was the truth. Yet he knew her well enough to know she'd never fabricate a story to justify killing someone—unlike Enzo who had a penchant for being a loose cannon.

"You know…" Bonnie began, "you've been manhandling me a lot lately," she pried Damon's fingers off her person one digit at a time. "That doesn't get me all wet and gooey."

Damon repressed the urge to throttle her. He shook it off and tried to steer the conversation back to its point. "I understand why you're doing this for Sarah, Bonnie but what I don't understand is…why do you feel you need to?"

She didn't reply, merely shifted her weight on her feet. Now wasn't the time for them to get into this. She had a vampire to eviscerate and packing to do.

"What does it matter why I'm doing this?" Bonnie challenged. "I want Enzo dead. If this is going to be a problem for you, then you can walk."

Bonnie turned to leave, but reactively Damon made another go to detain her and pulled back a burned hand for his efforts. The vampire hissed and drew his injured limb to his chest. Bonnie murderously glared at him.

"You are simply hard of hearing, Damon," she retraced her steps and stood before the incensed immortal once more. "You want to know my answer that badly? I'll tell you. I've never met Sarah Salvatore and I may never meet her and that's fine, but she and I have things in common. Those commonalities totaling the death of our biological parents, three of them by _your_ hands. The both of us are connected to _you_. Sarah is literally your blood however diluted it may be she's still your kin.

"Enzo who could be literally doing anything else in the world right now, would rather end an innocent girl's life over some petty bullshit…no," Bonnie moved closer, her chest almost coming into contact with Damon's who was breathing deeper because of her proximity and from the intensity in her speech. "You've killed people for less, but your family is on the line. So again, if you have a problem with what's about to go down, you can leave. Matt and I will make sure the place is spotless once we're done."

Matt looked up from what he was doing. He had unearthed heavy duty chains he picked up from a hardware store to bind the vampire to the last chair he'd ever sit in. Matt did his best not to eavesdrop on Bonnie and Damon's discussion, but couldn't help it.

They were standing impossibly close together, breathing in rhythm seemingly unaware. Damon's head was tilted downward while the rest of his body remained poised in one erect line whereas Bonnie's head was tilted nearly all the way back, shoulders straight.

Matt didn't know if they were going to bite one another's face off or kiss. He surreptitiously eyed Enzo to make sure he was still incapacitated.

"I'm not leaving," Damon insisted. "And I'm not going to let you be the one to kill Enzo. I'll do it."

Bonnie waved her hand magnanimously for Damon to proceed before her. "But you're not going to be here when it happens."

Bonnie blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Damon snapped. "Things are going to go down on my terms, and one of those terms is you not being anywhere near the scene when it happens."

"You think I can't stomach it?"

"I know you can," and that unnerves me, Damon held back in saying. "Killing isn't your thing, Bonnie. If it were…Kai would be maggot food…me right along with him and you know that. So you're not sticking around for what I have in mind for Enzo and that's final."

Damon ended his spiel with veins protruding along his neck, fattened with rage about this whole thing.

**Currently…**

The door shut quietly after Damon's entrance. He trekked water through the house all the way to the living room where the two people who set this whole sorry business in motion immediately got to their feet upon seeing him. Damon's throat burned with acidic words he fought back in spewing in a venom-filled tirade.

He pinched his lips together and accepted the dampened towel Elena handed him. Warmth and a sliver of apprehension shown through her compassionate face, but it wasn't of any help to Damon. He didn't want her understanding. He wiped the blood off his hands as best he could and tossed the soiled rag into the lit fireplace.

"Is it done?" Matt opened up the floor for discussion.

"Yeah, it's done," Damon replied in a dull voice he had to clear so that his next words would be projected strongly. "Enzo might be dead, the threat against my niece neutralized, but it doesn't change the fact the two of you had _no_ business getting involved in the first fucking place."

Bonnie stepped forward, "Damon…"

"IT WASN'T YOUR PLACE!"

Elena jumped at his raised voice, color flew up Matt's neck—a sign he was angry whereas Bonnie's chest heaved. She blinked a few times whether it was to stave off tears, or control the need to retaliate by throwing pain at him, Damon couldn't say.

"Sarah is my friend, Damon," Matt argued.

He scoffed. "She's not your friend, Donovan. You were _forced _to befriend her. You lied to her because Enzo was doing what he does best. So don't stand there in your self-righteousness like my niece actually means something to you."

"Oh yeah and what does she mean to you?" Matt stood toe-to-toe with Damon. "You just learned about her existence today! And I doubt she'd be thrilled to know her vampire uncle killed both of her parents. Sure, I may have only started talking to her because Enzo threatened me, but I've learned more about her than you ever will."

Elena intervened, "All right, Matt that's enough. Too much has happened and emotions are…

"Shut up, Elena," Matt ordered. "You might be pissed off because you had to kill Enzo, which lets be real you didn't give a shit about. But I'm not going to walk around pretending I'm miserable over his death because you knew he was going to become too much of a problem one of these days. You can lie to yourself all you want, Damon, but you know I'm right. And I'll take a human over a vampire any day of the week when it comes to who lives and who dies. _Now, _I'm finished."

Being finished, that was something Damon knew all too well.

**Then…**

He woke up with a splitting headache and when he opened his eyes a derisive snort escaped. His wrists and ankles bound by chains were burning, but Enzo didn't smell the noxious aroma of vervain. So what was causing this uncomfortable sting?

He looked from one arm to the other, "I'm assuming there is an explanation for this?" he croaked.

"Don't pretend you don't know, Enzo."

The vamp in question heard the witch's voice, disembodied though it was hitting his ears like surround sound. Enzo lifted his blood-stained head taking in the sight of the people surrounding him. He grinned then groaned.

Just then the front door opened and in walked Elena. There were inward groans all around punctuated with an audible one.

"Hey," she frowned, "what's going on?"

No one answered. Matt and Bonnie shared an exasperated look.

The doppelganger strolled into the living room, absorbed the scene with nothing less than confusion and worry. "What's going on? Why is Enzo tied up?"

The vampire in question swung his head in her direction, "Because I've been a bad boy, and they wanna punish me."

"Elena," Bonnie spoke, "this isn't your concern. You should go."

"Isn't my concern? Can I at least know why?"

"Well of course they want you out of the loop," Enzo cajoled. "Protect the doppelganger's sensibilities at all times."

"That's not what this is about," Matt attested and addressed one of his oldest friends, "Seriously, Elena you need to go."

Of course she stayed and looked at, "Damon? Will you at least tell me what's going on?"

"Yes, Damon," Enzo practically growled. "Why don't you tell your girlfriend or whatever you're calling her this week what this tribunal is all about. I'm sure she'd _love_ to hear the story of how you killed your nephew Zach's girlfriend who was…"

Damon punched him in the throat. That stunned Enzo but he managed to croak out:

"…heavily pregnant at the time you drained her."

Cue Elena's horrified expression. Damon's nostrils flared and his entire body went rigid. Bonnie and Matt…the unpleasant knowledge was not news to them, but neither relished in hearing it again.

"You killed a pregnant woman?" Elena swallowed with difficulty.

The expression of sinister joy beamed from Enzo's entire being. "Isn't he a treasure? The man you love…was so heartless once upon a time he killed a pregnant woman remorselessly. And not just some random pregnant woman, but the love of his nephew's life. Where's the loyalty, Damon? You never had any and you never will."

Those words struck a chord with several occupants in the room. The one they affected the most, Damon felt himself shutting down. He didn't blink, became eerily still.

"It's…it's not true is it…Damon?" Elena stuttered.

Quietly, he said, "It is."

"He's a peach, ain't he? And now he wants to kill me when he's guilty of doing some of the most foul and horrible shit to people, and barely got a slap on the wrist for it. All of you," Enzo looked at each individual, "he's hurt you all but you want to condemn me? Fuck. You."

A flicker of doubt coursed through Bonnie and even Matt. They could hate Enzo, but in this moment he couldn't be convicted of lying. He had a point.

As expected nothing went the way it should have. Enzo baited Damon until he reacted and…

He broke free, attacked Matt while telling everyone he had gotten to Sarah Salvatore figuring something was up and compelled her to get into an accident. He jumped through a window. Damon instantly went in pursuit with Elena fast on his heels.

Bonnie whipped out her cell phone, called Stefan, and expeditiously clued him in on what was happening. She made a subsequent phone call to someone else. Her call was answered after the second ring, and Bonnie put the right amount of anxiety in her voice.

"Kai! Kai I need your help! Enzo is trying to kill me," she fought off a wicked smile. "How fast can you get to the boardinghouse?" Pause. "Hurry. I don't know how…" and she deliberately hung up.

Turning, Bonnie eyed Matt who was passed out on the couch, his head wound mending after Elena fed him her blood. Walking over to her friend, Bonnie leaned over and lightly kissed his forehead, shielding him with her magic, literally forming a protective bubble over the human in the event Enzo doubled back to the house. He wouldn't be able to touch, lay a finger on Matt.

Her eyes darted to the unopened duffel bag. Bonnie reached for it, and rifled around looking for one thing in particular. She found it.

She headed out the front door and walked down to the edge of the driveway, folding her arms tightly over her torso. It was bitingly cold and the scent of another snowstorm was heavy on the air. Bonnie's thoughts trailed off as they often did, bouncing from one subject to the next, searching for that perfect algorithm. She thought of Sarah, the accident, the ensuing fight. Her ruminations changed trajectory to the things about her small little town she would miss, but couldn't wait to get the hell away from.

She perked up once hearing the purr of an engine. A black Dodge Challenger rolled onto the Salvatore property, the driver was Kai. He emerged studying Bonnie cautiously and openly.

"You called me here. You don't seem to be in any trouble," he remarked.

"You'd be wrong. Damon and Elena are holding Enzo off, but he's after me."

"So what are you hoping I'll be able to do?" Kai began to approach. "If Elena and Damon can't take care of one of their own…oh never mind," he smiled. "I figured it out. Those two can't tie each other's shoes without putting their lives at risk."

"We gotta hurry, Kai," Bonnie pressed urgently.

He couldn't read the Bennett witch. Her face was completely flaccid, closed off. There wasn't even a frightened spark in her eye, nor a mischievous one warming him of walking into a trap. A sliver of uneasiness did coil in Kai's stomach, but he shrugged it off.

The two of them fell in step as they headed back to the house.

Kai cast a sidelong glance at Bonnie wondering exactly what was going on. Ever since breaking out of prison and being around other people, he had gotten used to noise. So the silence stretching painfully between them was bewildering.

"I haven't thanked you _enough _for giving me a gotdamn conscience," he burst. "On of the way over, I actually held the door open for a little old lady. Well, she wasn't old, at least forty but anyways you get the point. And I _so_ didn't laugh at the guy who tripped down the stairs and ended up breaking his leg. I told someone in passing to call Tyrone…I meant 911. Sorry, I've been listening to Erykah Badu all day."

Bonnie said nothing, but gave him a withering look to which Kai immediately zipped his lips.

Leader of the Gemini's noticed they bypassed the house altogether walking around it, heading to the backyard. He did manage to see a broken window indicative a fight of some sort had taken place.

They crossed into the woods. Kai looked around, listened, made up a million and one questions he wanted to ask Bonnie. "Do you have any weapons handy?"

"No, I don't."

"Don't you think we should have loaded up in the off chance our magic fails?"

"Are you nervous?" Bonnie taunted.

His lips flattened into an unamused line. "No, I'm not nervous, but you haven't given me much to go on and you're leading me out into the middle of the forest. You know our history when it comes to the forest, Bon."

She stopped walking, and pushed him back against a tree with her magic. Kai grunted. Tree bark dug painfully into his back.

"If I were you I _wouldn't _bring up what you did to me in 1994, and I'd be inclined to forget why I called for your help."

"Noted," he wheezed.

Bonnie released him and Kai nearly toppled to his knees. She continued down the skinny path carved out by previously travelers, swatting branches out of the way, side-stepping fallen trees, and hopping over muddy puddles.

Bonnie stilled when she heard a shrill scream. Kai paused right behind her making Bonnie's flesh crawl. Carefully she began to head toward where the scream originated doing her best to look through the dense foliage that made everything look the same.

They had reached the edge of the cemetery, the wrought iron fence and lamp posts coming into view.

A body flew over their heads causing them both to dive out of the way. Bonnie flipped over to see who it was but the person was up and moving at vampire speed before she could discover if it had been Enzo, Elena, or Damon.

Elena was on the ground approximately ten meters from them holding her arm. It was broken, the bone poking out of the sleeve of her jacket.

"Go help Elena," Bonnie ordered Kai who rolled his eyes and made his way to the pointless doppelganger vampire.

Grunts, snarls, and curses bombarded the area, but Bonnie couldn't physically see where the two combating vampires were. They just seemed to be moving at the speed of teleportation.

Elena pressed her back up against the tree as Kai neared. She had been seconds from pressing her own bone back into her skin and letting her vampire healing take care of the rest of it. She certainly didn't want him touching her, didn't want him anywhere near her.

Kai saw that reflected on her pain stricken face and held his hands up in classic surrender format. He lowered himself to his haunches.

"Believe it or not I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help. You can blame Bonnie for that."

"I don't want your help," Elena spat maliciously.

"Guess what," he yanked her broken arm causing her to scream to high heaven, "I really don't give a shit," and in the next second he was on his feet bringing a reluctant Elena with him. He put her in front of him, holding her securely and yelled, "Damon! If you want your girlfriend's head to remain on her shoulders I suggest you either stop getting your ass kicked by Enzo or stop kicking his!"

Bonnie snapped to glare at him but kept her objections in his method to get those two's attention to herself.

Damon materialized in front of his family crypt, shirt ripped and torn, nose and lip bleeding, hair disheveled. He was holding Enzo who was in an even worse condition, by the scruff of his neck.

The unhinged look in Damon's eye made him look feral. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kai beat him to the quick.

"Before you say, 'Let her go'," he did a near perfect imitation of Damon's serious voice, "Let's go ahead and nix that. You know I'm not going to let Elena go until I know you're calm."

"And I won't _be _calm until you let her go."

"I wanna do the right thing but…" Kai licked his lips feeling the familiar tingle of insanity wanting to burst out of its forced confinement. "But I also can't seem to fight my nature to see what would happen if I were to magic Elena's heart out of her chest."

Damon pivoted around to face Bonnie, his full vampire face broadcasting his hatred, _"YOU BROUGHT HIS ASS HERE? CONTROL HIM!"_

"Shush," Kai chastised. "Not so loud. This is a cemetery."

Damon moved forward but he wasn't letting go of Enzo, not while he had the upper hand. He had managed to snap his neck but he wouldn't be out for long. If Bonnie brought this sonofabitch into things…Damon couldn't make up his mind who he wanted to tear into pieces more. Kai, Enzo, or Bonnie.

"If you hurt her," Damon carefully enunciated, "if you spill as much as one drop of her blood, I will _crucify_ you."

Kai looked almost flattered. "I'm not going to hurt Elena…but maybe you should be worried about what I'm prepared to do to reverse whatever Bonnie did to me. Death is how some bonds are broken are they not, Damon?"

The implication had been thrown with the subtly of a mace to the foot. The heat of unmitigated fury turned into icy coldness. Damon waited to see if Bonnie would jump in and defend herself by unleashing a spell that would turn Kai into a turnip. When nothing of the sort happened, Damon let go of Enzo and launched himself forward.

He expected with drooling anticipation his hands wrapping around the fucker's pencil neck and strangling him to death, but he was caught in a lasso, held aloft in the air, wrenched backwards, and crashed into the ground. His head bounced off dead grass and broken sticks, and Damon blinked questionably.

What happened?

Angling his neck his eyes met with a pair of combat boots. Bonnie happened.

"Don't open your mouth again," she told him and left Damon sprawled out.

Kai smiled enjoying Bonnie's fire, her indifference. Bad was a garment not many could wear properly, but Bonnie's had been custom made and he liked to think of himself as the tailor.

"Let Elena go, Kai. Thank you for your assistance."

Defiantly he held on to the simpering doppelganger for a few seconds more before abruptly pushing her forward. Elena stumbled but quickly ran over to Damon and helped him up.

Only feet away, Enzo was slowly awakening. _Again._ If he were human and based on the blows his kidneys and liver received from Damon's fists he'd be peeing blood for a week. As it stood, he was thoroughly pulverized and slow to heal. His movement along the ground caught Kai's attention.

"I think your suspect is waking up."

Bonnie didn't look away from the warlock, merely extended her arm out toward Enzo and sent pain his way.

"Does this mean the fun's over?" Kai pouted playfully.

"Oh, no it's just beginning," Bonnie said and strolled over to Enzo beginning her oration about how easy it was for her to do a spell using modern day words.

Bonnie kneeled in front of the vampire who was curled up on the ground, inky black hair matted to his bloody forehead. He stared up at her through his dense eyelashes.

"…what do you have to say for yourself, asshole?"

"Just…kill me."

Cocking her chin to the side, with a flick of her hand Bonnie snapped Enzo's neck.

"Bonnie?" Damon barked.

"Didn't I tell you not to open your mouth?" she sighed and shook her head but got to her feet. Bonnie made her way over to Damon, reached inside her coat and pulled out a metal device.

"What is that?" Damon mouthed.

Bonnie didn't answer.

"Bonnie…there's something I need to tell you," Kai began.

"What?"

"I never got around to…apologizing…for anything I've done that I _know_ hurt you. I'm sorry."

She faced the self-proclaimed heir apparent of the Gemini Coven. Kai appeared contrite, but at the end of the day Bonnie wasn't fooled. Any empathy or remorse he felt didn't originate from him but from Luke, and for anyone to buy into his surrogate compassion would make them out to be a fool.

Facetiously Bonnie replied, "Thanks."

"Does this mean I can go now?" he waggled his eyebrows.

Finally a smile streaked across Bonnie's face. "Not exactly."

"What now?" Kai attempted to walk only to find his feet glued to the ground. "What the fuck are you doing? Let me go! I helped you."

Bonnie ignored his words and held the small metal device in the palm of her hand.

"What…what is that?" Kai asked nervously.

"Another ascendant."

"What do you mean _another_ ascendant?" Kai began struggling to free himself in tangent now.

Damon and Elena exchanged glances.

Bonnie stared at Kai, the ascendant, and then finally up toward the sky.

Kai laughed bitterly, "You can't use that. There's no eclipse."

"Ah, I don't need an eclipse for this. I'm using something else."

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll remember the spell, I'll find another source of magic, I'll free myself and I'll definitely _repay_ your kindness, Bonnie. Think about what you're doing."

"I have been and like I said to Enzo I can weave a spell without uttering traditional words to get it to work," a piece of the ascendant shifted. "You want to apologize, Kai? Start fresh? I'll give you time to think about everything you did to me," the final piece of the ascendant clicked into place. "As I've had nothing but time to think about it," the ground shook. "Day after day," the wind began to pick up in velocity, "month after month," lightening flashed. "Alone. Bruised, broken, and _utterly _alone," thunder boomed. "So take your apology, Kai, and stick it up your ass!"

The crystal in the middle of the ascendant glowed at the same time light shot up from cracks in the ground. Blood surged from those cracks, soaking the earth. Her magic became a spile, tapping into an area rife with supernatural energy—a ley line which she could then use to do what she needed.

"Ohmygod," Elena cried, picking up her feet.

"Jesus," Damon looked around in slight mortification.

The wind blew Bonnie's hair across her face skewering her image from Kai who was reciting counter spell after counter spell with no success.

Pale blue light burned Kai's retinas. He felt like he was disintegrating into pieces, into molecules, into atoms. He stared in horror at his hand as it was stripped down to the fat, then muscle, skeleton, disappearing until there was nothing at all.

"STOP BONNIE DON'T DO THIS!" Kai's words ran together

"I can't. I won't."

Gaelic rolled off her tongue effortlessly as Kai's essence, his physical body was sucked into the instrument in her hand where he'd stay…forever.

His screams were deafened by the roar of the winds, and like a house losing power he merely blinked out of existence.

Bonnie didn't have much time to break the connection between her and the ley line before it became a portal sucking everything else into it like a black hole. She switched to Latin ordering the doors of the ley line to bolt and shut. They resisted, reveling in the fact they were opened and exposed and drinking in the organic and thermal energies of this plane.

She dropped the ascendant and held both palms up. Blood began trickling from her ears and nose. Her fingertips stung.

"_Maro sum, Bennett ego sum tu magistra et claudere!"_

Unfortunately Bonnie was being pulled toward the portal. But she ground herself as much as she could. She needed an anchor, and it came in the form of Damon latching on to her waist. That distracted her for a second but she shouted:

"_Dixi claudere portas tuas!" _

The door to the ley line slammed shut and the ricochet was so jarring it sent Bonnie and Damon hurtling backwards. He cushioned her taking the brunt of crashing to the ground, and having the wind knocked out of him.

Elena rushed over to them. Bonnie climbed off Damon awkwardly and didn't look at him despite his attempts to get her attention.

"Where did you send him?" the doppelganger questioned. "Back to 1994?"

"No," Bonnie brushed off the back of her jeans but grimaced the next second in realizing her palm was covered in blood. "He's in that," she pointed weakly at the ascendant.

Elena was impressed. Damon shared in her astonishment if not warily. To do something of that magnitude took an inexplicable amount of power. He listened, pointedly, to Bonnie's heart making sure it wasn't slowing down. It beat rapidly which was equally concerning, but as long as it still carried a beat…he'd continue to monitor her.

He was drawn to the dried blood coating her nostrils, and the line of blood that curved along her jaw from her ear.

"How are you feeling?" Damon asked.

"I'm fine," the green-eyed girl brushed him off. "Call Stefan. See if he was able to find Sarah."

Bonnie took two steps and collapsed.

"Bonnie!" Damon caught her and carefully lowered her to the ground. "Bonnie?" he placed his ear on her heart, heard it beating.

"Is she okay?" Elena tucked strands of hair behind her ear. Sniffled.

"I don't know. Get her back to the house. Take the ascendant and put it in my room. I'll find a safe place for it."

"Enzo?" Elena motioned to him with her head.

"I'll…take care of Enzo."

**Presently…**

"D-do you want to talk about it?" Elena slipped in front of him, sinking her fingers between his.

"There's nothing that needs to be said that hasn't already been said a million times before, Elena."

"I know but a lot went down today. A lot could have gone wrong. You're upset and I think you should talk about it. If not today, someday soon. I wanna be here for you, Damon and not just for the fun parts."

He was barely listening, gaze focused elsewhere.

Bonnie and Matt had walked to the foyer where the two of them exchanged quiet words. He inquired if Bonnie were okay and she reassured the former jock outside of sporadic dizziness she was fine, told him Elena had given her some blood. The former football player leaned down and hugged Bonnie, held her, murmuring softly he was glad she was all right. Damon was riveted to the scene unconsciously tightening his grip on Elena's hands.

She winced at the pain, and stared at him with a quizzical brow. "Damon?" He didn't respond since he seemed to be too wrapped up in whatever was taking place between Matt and Bonnie. Elena shot them a look over her shoulder.

Bonnie broke away, wiped her eyes, and made her way to the staircase.

"Excuse me," Damon dropped his girlfriend's hands, skirted around her, and followed the witch upstairs.

He caught Bonnie by the arm—she gasped—and Damon yanked her towards his bedroom. He pushed her inside and slammed the door after him.

"That was a ballsy thing you did today," Damon scowled.

"I know."

"Everything could have gone to shit."

"It could have."

He stood in front of her. "You could have died."

"I didn't."

"But you could have, Bonnie!" Pause. "Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?"

"Would the outcome change if you had known what I had planned?"

Damon didn't believe so and really that wasn't the point or the principle. "You still should have informed me."

"Why?"

"Why?" Damon fired back incredulous. "What do you mean 'why'? You dragged that simple human boy into something that could have gotten him killed—"

"—Matt knew the risks, and since when you do care about someone dying?"

"That's not the point, Bonnie. Enzo was not your run-of-the-mill vampire, and to get Kai involved? I thought your days of offering yourself up as a sacrifice were over?"

"They are!" Bonnie poked him in the chest. "I did what I had to do which was put me first and eliminate my biggest threat. You think the conscience thing was going to last forever with Kai? Sooner or later he was going to get back at me. Probably by doing something degrading like linking my life with Elena's leaving you with the choice of saving one or condemning the other to death. So I took matters into my _own _hands and I'm not apologizing for that."

Bonnie bolted for the door, Damon quick on her heels.

"Hey!" he yelled after her.

She didn't stop or slow down but burst inside her bedroom. Damon was right behind her.

"Get out!"

Damon planted his hands on his hips, glowering. "You know me better than that. We're going to settle this."

"It's settled."

"Far from it," he watched as Bonnie began to pile her entire wardrobe on the bed. "You're still going through with it?"

Bonnie didn't answer.

Vexed she wasn't answering him, Damon's sore jaw tightened and he planted his fists on his hips. "Bonnie, you're still leaving."

"Is that a question or an observation?"

"Fuck this," Damon stomped over to her and caught her wrist forcing her to look at him. "You don't have to leave."

"Yes, I do."

Lines of distress crowded on Damon's forehead and between his eyebrows. "Why?"

"On account I almost got your niece killed today."

He wouldn't disagree. "Regardless of what happened there's no reason for you to leave."

"Yeah, there is."

"What? Talk to me," the blue-eyed vampire implored softly.

Bonnie hesitated, "I can't because it's not going to change anything."

"Bonnie, you won't know that until you open your mouth and spit out whatever's bothering you."

"You are!" she yelled finally losing her patience.

Damon felt like he had been slapped. "Me?"

Bonnie chuckled tiredly. "Ever since I came back nothing has felt right, my emotions, I don't feel like myself. And before you say anything, I know I'm not the same on account of what's happened to me. But there was one thing I _thought _I could rely on and that was you, Damon."

"I…"

"You shoved Kai into my face when you _knew_ I didn't want to see him again."

Damon wanted to flinch at the sheer hatred he heard in Bonnie's tone. He lifted his head and saw the unshed tears lining the bottom of her eyes. Damon took another step closer to Bonnie who backed away.

"And you only started to hang out with me more because Elena told you to. But you know what," Bonnie stopped to take a breath, "it doesn't matter anymore. I'm done. It's over. It's finished."

He didn't like the sound of that. "What's finished?"

"Everything."

His brows lifted, and panic punched Damon deep in the gut. "Our friendship? You're finished with our friendship?"

Once again she was putting miles between them without leaving the room.

"What do you mean, Bonnie?"

"I don't want it to be but maybe…it's for the best."

"NO!" Damon wagged his head. "I don't accept that. I know I can stand to be a bit more sensitive and bit less self-absorbed at times, but Bonnie don't do this."

"Out there in the woods you looked at me like you were going to kill me if Kai hurt Elena. Do you have any idea what that feels like? No, because for you she's more important than _anything. _I understand. I shared your philosophy but I don't anymore."

"Look, I was pissed, okay because I didn't understand why you would rely on Kai of all assholes to help you. You know I didn't mean it the way it came out."

Bonnie smiled miserably. "When does it ever? I am _tired_ of this shit."

Damon was at a loss for words but he wouldn't give up, "Stay…let's…we can talk about this."

"Why would I stay? I have to love myself because those in my life have proven that they've given everything they are to other people and have none left to give…to me," her throat collapsed as she finally permitted a lone tear to run down her cheek.

He wasn't sure, but Damon was pretty certain the floor fell out from under his feet. His ears began ringing. Black dots formed in front of his eyes, and a sharp pain pierced him somewhere above his heart.

"If you're wondering if I overheard your ninety-nine thousandth love confession to Elena…I did."

"Bon…I didn't…look…all right," he stuttered horribly. "I know what I said how it could be misconstrued that I don't…"

"Just _stop_," Bonnie deadpanned. "I know you well enough to know when you're being absolutely sincere. You had been…in that moment. You meant every word you said to her and I can't…I can't be upset with you because of how you feel about Elena. I just hate you had to throw me under the bus."

"Bon that's not what I meant. I wasn't trying to pit you two against each other…"

"She doesn't deserve you!"

The unlit logs in the traditional fireplace ignited into angry, red-orange flames.

"What?"

Every breath Bonnie inhaled pulled at her chest. "You fell in love with a girl who couldn't make up her mind if she had feelings for you until a sire bond came along, and finally made the decision easy. But what did she say to you once it was broken?"

"_This may be the worst decision of my life…" _Damon remembered those prophetic words loud and clear.

"You should never settle for a person who wants half of you, Damon and that's what you're doing. And if I continue on in _our_ friendship I'll be doing the exact same thing. So excuse me if I don't want to stick around to watch or participate in mediocrity."

Damon's eyes were blazing turquoise and narrowed dangerously. "Then stay and make things better. Stand and fight for what you want, Bonnie. Running isn't going to change things."

She snorted. "I _am _fighting. For me. For the first time ever I'm fighting for myself. Not for a bitch who doesn't know who you are and _never_ did. Not for her brother who didn't love me half as much as I loved him. I'm leaving for me. If I stay…I'll end up dead or worse. You really want that for me?"

No, he didn't but Damon didn't want Bonnie to leave either. Not while she lived under a belief that her life mattered less to him than Elena's when it was far from the truth. That he didn't have any respect for her as a person or their friendship. He stared, unwaveringly as she stared right back.

But if he tried to make her stay would it be selfish? Would truly being Bonnie's friend be about her or him trying to prove something? Should he honor her wishes of being let go so she could have a bullshit free life, and finally get to do the things she lost sight of?

The answer was easy but no less difficult.

He fought to control his face. It couldn't decide if it wanted to vamp out, scrunch in fury, or crumble into wretchedness. His heart was breaking as was Bonnie's and they didn't know how to stop it.

Damon moved closer in increments, and when he had nowhere else to go, his hands trembled a bit as they framed Bonnie's face. His eyes became red-rimmed, a lump formed in his throat, but he coaxed her forward, his lips crashing right below her hairline. For her part, Bonnie couldn't breathe. It was too hard. Tears accumulated on her eyelashes before rolling down inflamed cheeks.

"I'll miss you, Bonnie Bennett."

He quickly let her go.

Her chest constricted as Bonnie watched Damon leave. And like she did on the Gilbert porch after discovering she had been left behind, she dropped to her knees and sobbed miserably.

* * *

Damon sat in front of the fire tapping a crystal tumbler next to his temple. The flames danced but he hardly saw them. Instead his thoughts were centered on a particular bedroom on the second floor of his house. Around this time, Bonnie would typically be snuggled under the covers reading or playing a game on her phone. Unconsciously he'd listen until she fell asleep before going out or moving restlessly around the manor.

Tonight his ears were met with dead silence. Bonnie had taken everything a part from the curtains erasing any sign of her having been a resident of this hundred year old house.

Elena had heard every bit of their exchange and left in a flutter of tears and eyelashes. Damon hadn't been inclined to follow her because he had no words of comfort to dispense; hell he didn't know what to say period. Bonnie had done an effective job of excavating all of their dirty laundry that no amount of Tide or bleach would be able to remove the stains.

He hadn't known how much his friendship had come to mean to her. Or vice versa. Without it…Damon constantly checked his chest for a gaping wound because that's what it felt like…Bonnie's absence.

Damon took a sip of his drink. He didn't want to be seen as anyone's pillar because he knew eventually he'd just disappoint that person.

The summer of his life with Elena had been tainted with his murderous revenge against Whitmore descendants. He fucked her and concealed, made love to her and hid, made her come and lied for three months with hardly a guilty conscience.

Yet with Bonnie, for all intents and purposes, they had a common law marriage. He snorted and took another sip of bourbon. He made her pancakes, played board games, wasted hours having nonsensical and sometimes—most times—heated debates that always secretly pleased him because he could rarely talk circles around her.

Now she was gone and he hadn't known what to say to get her to stay, to hear his side of things. His confession to Elena, in retrospect did sound as if he was incapable of loving anyone else, mainly Bonnie.

Damon accidentally shattered his tumbler. The bourbon wet the sleeve of his shirt, dripped to the floor, and glass sliced into his palm.

Cursing and shaking out his hand, Damon wiped the remnants of broken glass off on his pants.

"You know you are a complete and total idiot, right?" Stefan entered the parlor. He had gotten back a few hours ago, finding his niece was unharmed for the most part.

"I'm not in the mood, Stefan."

"Don't care," the younger Salvatore made himself comfortable on the arm of a nearby chair and eyed the mess his brother created.

Damon snarled half-heartedly, "Guess you heard my exchange with Bonnie."

"More like verbal assassination, but yeah I did. What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? She won't see or talk to me. She doesn't want our friendship anymore, and maybe...it's for the best."

Stefan chortled. "You know that's bullshit. You two need each other."

"Bonnie needs something I'm not able to give because I'm lugging around too much fucked up baggage. She deserves a life, Stefan. Any association with me…no she deserves better."

"Well, I can't fight you when you're actually making sense. However, days ago I saw a side of my brother I haven't seen since we were human," Stefan continued. "You were smiling, laughing, rolling around in the snow. It was the most carefree I've ever seen you, Damon. For once you didn't look like you were carrying around the weight of trying to prove yourself. You were just _in_ the moment. You were living. You weren't following a script. What made it even more astonishing…knowing the person you were creating that moment with was someone you've gotten to know intimately well," he rose to his feet then. "You made several references to loving strong women…that not all love is real love…maybe you need to start asking yourself why you spoke those words, Damon, and how they can help you get your best friend back."

Dropping the proverbial mike, Stefan left. Damon sighed heavily. His personal life was a mess. His long-thought dead niece was alive and okay. His old friend was gone. The psychotic asshole who tortured his best friend was caput. His girl probably hated his guts. Yep, life was amazing.

"Bonnie loves you."

Damon winced at the sound of the voice. "I don't need any more lectures, Donovan. What the hell are you still doing here anyways?"

Matt approached the vampire until he stood in front of him; he continued his earlier train of thought. "And in your own messed up way you love her, too. I don't know why she loves you, but if you don't go after her it'll be the biggest regret of your life, and you know it, Damon."

"She left me…us…here remember," the incensed vampire tripped over his words. "Bonnie wants her freedom and I'm honoring her wishes."

"Bonnie may want that but she _wants _a gesture. After everything, all the times we've collectively let her down, the least we can do is stop showing her by our actions what she _doesn't _means to us, stop giving her lip service, and be to her what she's been to us. You can wallow in your man-pain some other time."

Damon shot up from his seat fast and furious. He grinned at Matt's startled expression. "Fuck you and go to hell."

He left the human to go stew elsewhere. Reentering his room, Damon slammed the door, placed his hands on his hips. Grudgingly, deep down he admired Matt for sticking up for Bonnie, but that didn't make him any less irritated with the boy's persistent existence. But…Donovan was right.

Locating his cell phone, Damon called Bonnie. As expected it went straight to voicemail. "I don't care if you don't want to hear my voice right now, but I want you to know, Bonnie that no matter how long it takes, you and I will be friends again. Enjoy your reprieve while it lasts."

TBC

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please, please, PLEASE review.**

**Special A/N: I understand this is a long chapter and A LOT went down, but it would be so awesome if I could get the kind of feedback that reflects readership. I've really had to make too many statements like this in the past, and its disheartening. After reading crummy comments by a particular executive producer who won't get off DE's ass and give us what we've now been waiting 7 years for, when you get what you need and want through fanfiction, please I urge you to let the writer know. Let me know something, please it only takes a few minutes. Thank you. **


End file.
